Guardian Angel
by SkyeElf
Summary: Voldemort's dead, but Harry's... Not normal. He's changed. An adrenaline-junkie, with the most cruel way of reaching that euphoric high. A new ally, a new hobbie. Dark!Harry. No slash. Harry/OC. It includes the English Mafia. On hiatus.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi, it's me again. This time with another OC fic. This is Dark!Harry..**

**I don't own Harry Potter, for I am not British, no matter how much my accent implies. I count this disclaimer for all chapters.**

**Prologue**

Harry lowered his wand. He couldn't believe it. Euphoria filled his every sense… He took a deep breath, wanting to feel freedom coursing through his veins…

It was over. Months, years of battling has led to this. Everyone ran to him, embracing him, wanting to touch a piece of the boy who lived – it was entirely his fault. But, for once, it was a good thing.

_For once. It was a good thing. _

It meant there would be a time when they all would come to blame him again. For the countless deaths the year-long battle has caused. Fred, Sirius, Lupin… his friends, brothers, fathers… The death he regretted most, was Snape's. He believed the two of them could've had a relationship. Perhaps not friendship, but something better than enemies. Snape would've been able to tell him about his parents. Even if it was only bad things, it was something.

It was only a matter of time before the wizarding turned their backs on him again. Only a matter of time…

It explained why he couldn't feel the freedom he'd tried to breathe in only seconds before.

The idea of being a hated figure again haunted him, almost as much as the idea of being a public figure. It irked him, and he wanted not to be known as the 'boy who lived' anymore. He never did. His title disgusted him – it was as if he was being made. Formed and manipulated. Now, he was a hero. They all looked up to him. But in a month? He'd be accused of plotting against the ministry, or he'd be the new dark lord… endless possibilities that enthralled him, but it also caused a twinge of anger to flare up.

_Face it, you are never going to be good enough for this world. _He thought darkly. _Freedom, in this world, is not for you._

He picked up his wand and walked away from the crowd. He avoided every single outstretched hand, every single shoulder; going out of his way to avoid them… he was repulsed by their touch. He was good enough now, but what about another year later? He walked down to the gates of Hogwarts and turned to face the crowd. They looked at him with confused expressions, but he didn't offer any explanation. He refused.

He'd heal his own Holly wand with the elder wand he'd caught. But he walked away with Draco's wand clenched tightly in his hand. Wanting nothing more than to make them all forget that Harry Potter ever existed, that there had been no Lord Voldemort and that they had been happy. He'd make George whole, he'd make Parvati forget Lavender… The marauders would be wiped from their minds. If only he could forget who he was. Reinvent himself. Escape from this cursed world – both beautiful, but utterly terrifying.

But he couldn't do it. He had not the magical ability, and even if he did he wouldn't do it. He'd be tempted, but he'd never be able to force his hand. Not at this time in his life.

He met the eyes of those important to him. Ron – his best friend. Was he really? Or had he just clung onto the fame of the boy who lived? And Hermione? Did it simply fascinate her to be friends with a freak among freaks?

Or was it true friendship?

The two of them exchanged a glance and nodded to him, almost in synchronization. They told him to go. They understood, he needed it. To be alone and independent for once. He shot them a small smile – they were indeed true friends. And by the looks of their joined hands, he'd say they'd be fine without him for a while.

How long he'd be away he didn't know. A month. A year. A decade. Until he felt ready to face them all again. It wouldn't be soon, that was certain.

A few more glances to those important to him, letting Mrs. Weasley know he was sorry, and that she would always be his mother, Ginny… she'd be better off without him, really, the other Weasleys… Luna and old Xeno….and Neville. The latter understood, a short nod of his head told Harry as much. _Thank you. _He turned on the spot. The suffocating darkness seemed almost welcome and oddly comforting. He liked disapparating. Not breathing for half a minute and then a breath of fresh air… pure adrenaline.

He was still buzzing with adrenaline. Every single particle of him shook…. And not just from apparating. From killing Voldemort.

Sure, it was more of an accident. A backfiring curse… but he felt the adrenaline surge through him…

He wanted more.

. . .

**A/N: Well, how do you think it went? Do you reckon it's worth going on with?**


	2. Chapter 1: First kills

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews, Muentiger, BookWorm77071, koekie101, Madd Girl and Nxt222. **

**Also thank you for the amazing response! I hope this lives up to your expectations.**

**Lavender might or might not have died in the Final Battle, but in this version she did. I read somewhere that she was on the list of deceased…**

**I feel I should say it's going to be Harry/OC.**

**Chapter 1: First kills.**

**Two years later…**

"You wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't?" Harry teased; his voice low. He was armed with a handgun; it was pointed at a thin, balding man with a large moustache. His green-brown eyes watched the youth in interest.

"Of course not. There are security cameras everywhere, and I have back-ups of everything concerning you two." He said, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. His eyes went from one face to the other. From emerald eyes to grey. "I know your deepest secrets, boys."

The two allies smirked at each other. Did he really think they were that daft? They were good at what they did, and no one, no one, would ever beat them at their game. They could erase all of the memories of every single security guard, or they could simply kill them all. They weren't new to this game anymore.

"Of course, sir. We know yours too." Harry said, amused. "We know of _everything_. You're underground workings, your status as druglord… or was it the head of the British Mafia? I forgot."

The portly man paled. "How?"

"We are no mere men, sir." The grey eyed one said. "We take what we want; when we want… we aren't exactly squeamish to do our job."

"And I am that job?"

Harry considered the older man. His companion laid a hand on his arm, telling him to back off. Harry lowered the weapon to his side.

"No. You aren't." Harry admitted. "You are a threat to us, is all."

"How am I a threat to the two top assassins the underground has to offer?"

"You know our names, our faces… how did you come to know them?"

"I am no idiot, Mr. Potter." He smirked. "I have contacts everywhere."

"As do we." Harry lied. In fact, for the last year and a half, he'd just had one contact: his grey eyed companion. And they'd been handling things just fine. His partner still used magic, even if he himself had sworn it off.

"Is that so? Well, Mr. Potter, what do you want with me?"

"To warn you. You tell anyone about me and my little ferrety friend…"

"Potter, how many times…"

"As many times as I said it and will probably say it again." Harry cut across him. "Now, Mr. Stine, shall we discuss your options?"

"_My _options? Are you barking mad?"

"Yes. We've established that Potter is inane, insane, mental and utterly bonkers. Can we move on?" The 'ferret' said irritably.

Stine looked at the two youths. He felt for them. How had their lives gone so utterly wrong? He didn't like what he himself had become, it was truly wretched. He hated it, with all of his might, he hated it. But he had no choice. It had been a business thrust upon him by the elders, and he was too weak to deny them.

Now he had bigger worries. Including the two nineteen year old males in front of him. What exactly did they know? And how could they possibly know it? He's been hiding well under the alias as a bank manager for almost seventeen years. Ever since the birth of…

"Mazia." The dark-haired man said. "We know of her."

He paled. Of all his secrets, she was the largest. No one could know about her. Ever.

"What do you want from me?"

"Business." The pale one sneered. "All of your business, becomes ours."

"Hand over my business? Are you insane?"

"As I've already established, Mr. Stine, Potter is completely off his rocker. No, we do not want you drugdealing business, we don't want to be carriers… you know our game. We want _that_ job."

"Done." He replied instantly. He'd do anything, _anything, _to keep her a secret. She was his own fault, his weakness personified.

The two partners smirked again. Business was looking up.

. . .

"How the hell did you know about that?" Malfoy demanded from Harry as they walked out of the building.

"Research, Malfoy." He sneered. "Books, you know."

"Are you certain you didn't use magic?"

"Positive. I abhor magic."

"Magic personifies who we are."

"I don't give a fuck about magic, it's just ruined my bloody life."

"And what you're doing now isn't?"

"No. I was already a screw-up before I became this."

"You refuse to name it." Malfoy mused. "After two years, where you've been working one and a half year as a hitman, and still you refuse to name it."

"I am an assassin, Malfoy, the finest."

"It's not something to be proud of, you know, and you are no real assassin. If you were, you wouldn't have any emotions."

"I have none, Malfoy, when last did you see me cry, or shout, or laugh?"

"The day of the battle."

"Exactly."

"Potter, how I the name of Salazar did we become allies?"

"Mutual grounds." Harry retorted. They stopped at a tall building. Harry then rustled past Malfoy, finding the hidden door to their shared home easily. "Just like we became roommates."

"Indeed." Malfoy said, hanging his coat. "I believe _I_ found _you _in this hellhole."

"And bloody redecorated it." Harry grumbled. "I was fine with just a mattress and a blanket."

"And a gun." Malfoy added. Harry inclined his head.

"And a gun." He echoed. "My first kill."

_It had been a stormy night in London, and Harry had lost his hotel key. Probably stolen while he was eating dinner. He'd exchanged all of his wizarding money for muggle money, and, quite to his surprise, he had enough to keep him alive for several decades. Thus no job was necessary._

_But this particular night he was cast out as homeless. Until he found this building. He'd managed to sneak inside and found a corner._

_When morning came, he found himself surrounded._

"_Look, a pretty boy got lost." One of the men said tauntingly. Harry sneered at him. "Oh, and he's got an attitude! Tell me, what are you doing here?"_

"_Currently? Smelling a drunk bastard." He spat at them._

_Within seconds a gun was pulled on him. The barrel tried to stare him down, but Harry stared calmly back at it._

"_Do it." He said to the drunk. He grabbed the gun and situated it right between his eyes. "Fucking do it!"_

_The man stared at him through bloodshot eyes. His cronies were all shocked into silence – they'd been calling insults on moments earlier. They all seemed to have been shocked into sobriety._

"_Fucking coward." Harry swore, taking the gun from the man, not even needing to use force. One of his pals went berserk, attacking Harry with a broken beer bottle. Harry calmly turned around and pulled the trigger._

_Right through the head._

_Adrenaline in its purest form had run through his veins. It was… exhilarating to say the least. He turned to the others, a cruel smile adorning his lips._

"_Want more?"_

_None of them did._

"You never told me about that." Malfoy's voice brought him back to reality.

"I'm not proud of it. It happened there." Harry pointed to said corner. There was nothing now. Harry had forbidden Malfoy to put anything there. "Oh, and if I recall correctly, you'd been brutally attacked by a gang when you found me in this hellhole."

Malfoy grimaced. The memory was not a pretty one. "Be that as it may, I made this place livable."

Five months after Harry's first kill; Draco had shown up at his door. The last person he would expect. He'd been cut, raped and nearly beaten to death… but Malfoy had had his wand on him. It had been _his _first kill.

"You made this place a place for Pansies, not assassins."

"Do you enjoy it?" Malfoy asked suddenly. They'd argued their way to the kitchen, where Harry had been handed a beer. "Killing?"

"It sure is an adrenaline rush."

"Is that what we are, Harry? Adrenaline junkies?"

"Since when am I 'Harry'?"

Malfoy scowled at him. "Slip up."

"Indeed." Harry drawled. Malfoy sent him a biting look. "You and I will never be friends."

"Thank goodness."

He twirled his wand, summoning another beer for Harry. "You know, Potter, I don't get you. You've banned magic for yourself, yet you keep the wands."

"I returned yours."

"When I came here."

"So?"

He sighed. "Potter, you can't tell me you're going to live without magic for the rest of your life?"

"I am." He declared.

"The magic will turn against you, you know."

"I don't care. Magic betrayed me."

. . .

"Mazia!" Mr. Stine yelled. No answer. "Mazia get down here!'

"I'm coming!" A voice replied. Seconds later a figure came running down the stairs. When she spotted him at the foot, she stopped. "Oh, it's you." Her voice rang of disgust. "I was hoping it was Ernie.'

"Why would he be here?"

"I don't know, visit me?' She rolled her eyes. "What do you want, David?"

"I'm tightening the security around this place." He announced, the assassins' words still ringing fresh in his ears.

"Oh, twenty guards, a hundred security cameras, an electric fence, a staff around me at all times not enough?" She sneered. She had his eyes, his green-brown eyes, except when she looked at him they contained hatred. Her black hair was cut short, obviously done by herself. Not badly, though, it ended just above her shoulders in layers. "Yes, what else? Oh, my birth records destroyed; any dental records… oh, even my mother doesn't know about me. Why? Because you killed her!" Her hands crossed fiercely in front of her chest, extenuating her figure. An hour-glass. A full bust, smaller waist and bigger hips.

"I did not kill her, Mazia!"

"My name is Zia." She spat back. "Now, I suggest you leave before I set the guard dogs on you. Oh, right, I forgot those."

"Mazia I will not be spoken to that way!"

"Like you can stop me!" She screamed at him, her hands now at her sides, clenched into fists.

She rounded and stomped up the stairs. He called her voice another few times, but she thoroughly ignored it. He was not the word father worthy. Here she was, an illegitimate child, his biggest shame. He put her in a house on top a hill with a nanny, security guards and a full staff. She could also get absolutely anything she wanted. But what she wanted was not material things. Computers, phones, toys… she hated all of it. She wanted freedom – and she'd get it. One way or another.

With another sigh she fell onto her bed. She'd turn eighteen soon. Would she be granted freedom? Unlikely.

To her, death seemed inviting.


	3. Chapter 2: Danger

**A/N: Hey, thanks to muentiger that reviewed the last chapter – I'm hurt! I got like 10 faves for that last chapter, and no one but she reviewed? Really?**

**This is for Muentiger, who reviewed. (I'm repeating myself continuously for a reason.)**

**Chapter 2: Danger**

Zia woke up the next morning, her spirits still unquestionably low. She detested her prison, and had tried many times to escape it. Every time she failed. A guard would catch her and take her back to her room. She wasn't allowed any freedom whatsoever.

There was a shadow cast over her bundled form. At first she presumed it was her nanny, Vicky, but her nanny was a bit chubbier. She sat up, her vision swam for a moment, she blinked and looked up at the shadowy figure.

When her eyes adjusted she was staring at the barrel of a gun.

"Wha...?"

"If you remain silent, you will make this a lot easier."

Zia lifted her eyes to the face of the figure. A mask hid his features, only his eyes showed. _Coward, _she thought.

"So, you kill me?" She asked, her voice even. "Let me guess, you think killing me will send him in a spin? Possibly make him miserable? Oh, he sent you, didn't he?"

The eyes showed confusion.

Zia took advantage of the situation and swung her foot up. The duvet swung up, as well as her foot – it caught the assassin off guard. Zia's feet caught the gun between her legs, and she twisted it. The firearm was thrown into the air. She lifted her arms, tearing her pillows to cause a diversion as the weapon lifted into the air. Two sets of eyes followed its progress, the assassin temporarily dazed by the poultry snow. But Zia lunged forward and caught it. Her bed was now a mess, feathers everywhere, her duvet was wrapped around her body, as if it was a sort of body armor.

She aimed the pistol at her attacker.

"Who sent you?"

"You can never make me talk."

Zia smiled evilly. "No, but I can make you scream."

The brown eyes behind the mask grew uncertain.

"I'll give you one last chance before I blow your hand off." Zia warned, aiming the weapon at the intruder's hand.

"You're nanny was certainly a lot easier to take out."

"You did _what?_" Zia screeched at the top of her lungs, terror setting in. Vicky and Zia had been together for as long as she could remember, and Vicky was like a mother to her.

"You heard." The voice said teasingly.

Zia pulled the trigger without blinking.

. . .

The sound echoed through the house, every single guard wondered the same thing: Is Mazia safe? The head guard immediately headed to the camera-room. He spoke into his walkie-talkie , commanding his soldiers to head to her room. He rapped sharply on the door to the security camera room, but no answer came. Sensing danger he cautiously opened the door.

The guard was dead. A single bullet through the head. The arm must've had a silencer. His expression was contorted in alarm. Not fear, meaning the action had been quick. There had been no time to fear the attacker.

Eugene Long sighed – he'd failed his mistress. That gunshot most likely was aimed at her. As much as he hated to admit it, the mistress was a kind lady, though she was young, she had few fears. Darkness was one of her fears, which was why he never left the house at night. With a sigh he closed the eyes of the guard. Were it not for the blood trickling down his forehead, he could've been sleeping.

He turned around and headed up the stairs, to the top floor. She'd liked it there, the view. The mansion was situated next to a mountain, or halfway on it. The view showed the semi-forest that surrounded the house, there was a stream nearby. The scent that wafted through the windows always made it smell fresh. The place was fantastic for hiking.

The guards were still outside her door, no one daring to enter.

"Sir!" His second in command whispered urgently.

"Yes?"

"We found Mrs. V's body in the study. We fear entering would cause the shooter to kill."

"Zia can handle herself." He said assuredly. Indeed she could. He had spent hours with her, training her in self-defence, add to that gun-control and how to shoot straight (Zia could more than shoot straight, though, she was a brilliant shot) and you had a killer in the making. Eugene waved his second in command off and opened the door. Zia was standing on the bed, dressed in shorts and a loose T-shirt. The shot had been fired by Zia, that much was obvious by the firearm in her hand, pointed at a masked man. He wasn't dead, but his arm was sporting a good amount of blood.

"Hi, Eugene." She greeted him brightly. She swung the gun so that the barrel was facing down and tossed it to him.

"Morning, Zia, I'm sorry..." He started, reaching forward and catching the weapon smoothly.

"Not to worry. You taught me well."

"Of course." He agreed.

"I suggest you call my father, Eugene, he might want to tighten security." She said, amused.

"The only means by which he can tighten it, is by locking you in a high-voltage, high-pressure metal cage."

She smirked. "Let him try. I swear, if he tries that, I'll train the gun on him myself."

"He's your father, mistress."

"He's an excuse for one." She jumped from the bed, turning her attacker over. "Did he really kill Vicky?"

Eugene swallowed. An action no missed by Zia.

"This is war." She said, her striking eyes darkening. "I want to know who sent him – and I'm going after them. Is that clear?"

He nodded. He's never seen her so determined. Her green eyes grew into a murky green, emphasizing the storm within.

"You didn't kill him." He mused, nudging the groaning attacker.

"No. I'm above that." She stated. "I act purely on self-defence... and a smidge of it was tainted by the mentioning of my dear nanny's murder."

"Revenge?"

"Vengeance." She nodded. "If it were either you, Vicky or Ernie, I'd kill immediately. But my useless father might want to question him."

"I'll alert him. Where are you going?"

"Well, I can't exit my door." She said, halting a few inches from the doorway. "I'm surrounded by your guards."

Eugene crossed over to the door and gave the order for them to return to their posts.

"Thanks." She smiled. "I'm gonna take a shower."

. . .

"Potter!" Malfoy yelled, ducking as an explosion caused debris to rain down upon him. They'd taken on another mission, a month later, given to them by Mr. Stine. Only the victim had expected them. Malfoy had no idea where his ally lied, if he was still alive or not. "Potter!"

No answer. Malfoy started to panic. Where was his mate?

He curved around the wall and aimed his gun at the shooter that caused the debris to fall. He pulled the trigger, and silence.

Another single shot sounded through the night, and Malfoy knew. Potter had reached the target. He ran towards the sound.

Upon reaching it, he saw his ally. A smirk across his features. Malfoy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Miss me, Ferret?"

"You wish, Horntail." He replied. That was the code the two of them had adapted over the past year and a half. Ferret and Horntail. Malfoy, of course, didn't like his nickname, but Harry had been calling him that for too long to change it now.

"Shall we?"

"The job done?"

"Yes. Druglord of London taken out. Make space for the new one – what was his name?" Potter asked, sticking the gun into his holster under his coat.

"How should I know?" Malfoy asked. "Ask no questions and hear no lies."

"Typical." Harry snorted. "And just when I thought you were becoming human."

"Human? Potter, were we human we wouldn't indulge in our little hobby."

"Touché." Potter said, swinging an arm around his shoulders. "You and I, Mr. Ferret, are the British assassins that most fear, yet we trust one another for some reason. Can you fathom why?"

"I can, Mr. Horntail, we are allies, of sorts. Trust no one, thus we trust only the other."

Laughing the two partners walked off from the scene of their latest hit, in their way to report to the British Mafia that they had taken out the druglord that had been rather... stupid in his actions. He'd grown careless in sending and receiving his shipments. Mr. Stine knew that the police were hot on the trail of this man, and there could be no loose ends.

. . .

**A disappointed note: Please do review. Even if you wish to flame my action scenes and my OC, though I'd rather you didn't. I mean, why go looking for OC fics if you hate it?**


	4. Chapter 3: New measures

**A/N: Now that's more like it! Thanks to everyone that accepted my invite, and thank you to those putting up with my Dark!Harry. I just think a guy that's been through a lot. **

**Thanks to Muentiger, Vizi, Batmarcus, Tomazine, BountyHunterGirl134, Potter, Adeline Potter, Annabelle4.0, AnimationNut, MySuperAwesomePenName, deathmunchingoreoslayer, ginnygirl528 and Susan Sewell.**

**In this chapter: We find out Zia's reason for being imprisoned, besides her being a threat to her father's business, I mean. Zia is not normal... but I guess we already knew that when she pulled a gun on her attacker...**

**For the inspiration of this story, my other best friend, Ruan.**

**Chapter 3: New measures.**

When Eugene Long had contacted him a month ago, he had expected everything except this! He didn't know she was this much of a fighter! And where the bloody hell did she learn how to handle a gun? The photographs showed him a bloody room, feathers everywhere and torn bedding. He'd been there to see the scene for himself, but still – it frightened him.

"_Mazia!" He yelled, his voice trembling. Said girl poked her head in through the door, a towel wrapped around her head._

"_What?" She barked from under the towel, she was rubbing her hair dry._

"_Where did you learn to handle an arm?"_

"_I've been shut up my whole life, what else would I have done in my free time?"_

"_Don't you know why I locked you up?" He demanded. Zia threw the towel to the servant-girl that was passing her room._

"_Enlighten me." She said in a bored tone._

"_You are an illegitimate child, and you hold a threat to my business."_

"_I knew you were a selfish bastard." She said casually. "So I've been locked up since I was... four? Because I proved a threat to your business? Because of your lack of self-control? And... oh, my oddness must've had something to do with it too, right?"_

_He blushed. Her _oddness_ was the main reason for her imprisonment. Her weird abilities..._

"Sir?" David Stine pulled himself out of the memory. The two assassins had entered his office and were standing in front of his desk.

"You did it?" He asked. Potter nodded, or Mr. Horntail as he preferred to be called.

"Obviously." Mr. Ferret sneered. "What did you want us for?"

Stine signed the cheque with a flourish of his pen and handed it to the nearest man, Mr. Horntail.

"I have another job for you." He said. "But it's a bit different."

"Oh?" The blonde lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes. It concerns Mazia."

"You want us to murder your own daughter?" Potter asked, affronted.

"No!" He yelled, insulted. "Heavens, no!"

"What then?"

"It concerns her protection."

"Go on."

"She was targeted a month ago," He began, extracting a folder from his top drawer. He pulled out the photographs taken from her bedroom, of Vicky the nanny and of the murdered security guard. He shoved the folder across the desk, and Potter scooped it up. He opened it, flipping through the pictures.

"Someone shot these people?"

"Yes. And the person in the last photograph? He was one of the top assassins the underground had to offer."

"Was?"

"I had him taken care of." Stine said lightly. "The point is, Mazia was targeted."

"Who shot the man?"

"She did. I don't know how she can manage the weapon, but she can – and she did it without blinking."

"Why is she targeted?"

"She is my daughter, I have many enemies. Many know of my exploits here in the underground, and they know if she was dead, I'd most probably surrender."

"Would you?"

"Yes."

"That's something." The blonde said, appraising him. Both the assassins wore black cloaks, identical cloaks, and sunglasses. Stine was under no disillusion, he knew under those heavy cloaks they most probably each stowed at least two armaments. One wrong move on his side, and he was done for.

"I need you two to become her guards. She's in danger, and she is already so heavily guarded. Electric fence, barbed wire, a fulltime security team completed with cameras. Yet a man snuck in and nearly killed her!"

"This is not our usual task, sir."

"I realize that – therefore I am willing to triple your usual income for this. It will include new living quarters, seeing as you need to live in."

"Both of us?"

"I'd prefer it if you did it one at a time, I still need a hitman."

Harry and Malfoy looked at one another, considering it. By this time in their partnership, they could see the other's thoughts almost as clearly as their own.

One stiff nod.

"We'll do it."

. . .

"Are you sure about it, Potter?" Malfoy asked once they were in their home.

"Yes. Think about it, Malfoy. If she's a target, it means more, difficult, challenging killings."

"Adrenaline."

Harry smirked. "Clever boy."

Malfoy took off his heavy cloak and hung it on the hook near the door. He then put the heavy arms on a table, reserved just for that.

"Don't patronize me." He sneered in reply.

"What else should I do?" Harry whined.

"Read a book." Malfoy suggested. Harry rolled his eyes.

"How about we talk?"

"About what, do enlighten me?"

"What happened the night you came here."

Malfoy gasped.

_After the war, everything was off. He that was Draco Malfoy was a hated figure. It didn't matter that he'd once saved Potter's life in his own home, no, it didn't matter that his mother had saved Potter and by far the wizarding world. No, wherever he went he was looked upon with scorn, hatred… he was banned from every wizarding establishment. Except his home._

_But there he didn't want to go either. It was a dreary, haunted place, tainted by dark magic. Even his mother didn't want to live there. His father had burnt it down. All that remained of the once prestigious manor was ashes._

_He wanted out. Sick of being outcasted._

_He'd found himself in a park one night on his way to a hotel he was temporarily living in whilst finding his feet. He'd sought seclusion in the muggle world, figuring they didn't know who he was._

_He'd been surrounded and beaten to the ground within seconds. He was entered. Time on time again, he was violated. His screams were muffled by countless hands._

_He didn't know how many there were. He didn't care. All he cared about was getting this over with._

_Eventually it stopped. And they left him. Bloody, violated, crying… they left him for dead. Their figures hobbling away. He reached for his mother's wand, miraculously unbroken. He trained it on the leader._

"_Avada Kedavra!" He gasped. The green light hit him, and he crumpled. His mates looked on in confusion. He swiped his wand again, and again…_

_He got up later, much later, rejoicing in the fact that he wasn't dead. Gathering himself as much as he could._

_Thankful for the night, he limped to a door. Slumping against to inspect his wounds. The door was wrenched open, the unexpected loss of the door making him fall flat on his back, a muggle weapon raised on him._

_Do it, he thought, closing his eyes. Nothing can be worse than this._

"_Malfoy?" The voice sounded incredulous._

_He opened his eyes, recognition setting in. Harry Potter. A pair of hands were under his armpits, dragging him inside._

_In the month that followed, Draco was nurtured. Potter had surprised him with this action. He was given food, a bed, companionship… A week after Potter dragged him into his home, he got up._

"_Why did you do it?" He asked, making Potter jump._

"_Do what?"_

"_Take me in."_

_Hesitance._

"_I don't know. Pity, I'd say."_

"_What a sweet sentiment."_

"_There is absolutely nothing sweet about it. I've killed before, Malfoy, and not just Voldemort."_

"_Why the muggle contraption?"_

"_I don't believe in magic."_

_Those words seemed incredibly sad to Draco at the time._

"I'm not going to talk about it." Draco snapped. Potter's eyebrow lifted.

"Malfoy, you are, as the saying goes, indebted to me. Surely I deserve the story?"

"I'd give you the memory." Draco said, knowing the reaction he'd get.

"Screw you, Malfoy."

. . .

Zia refused to leave Vicky's room. Her own room was soiled by the murderer's presence. For a month she stayed in the room. Doing nothing, not even completely eating. She just stared out in front of her.

"Zia?" Eugene entered the room. She spared him a look before looking back out the window. She sat on the bed, clutching a pillow. Nature was at its best in the outside world. Green, colourful, lively. She saw the butterflies beat their wings cheerfully, a grasshopper hopped from one spot to the other. "I've got news."

She looked at him again. Her eyes were still the murky green it had been after she found out about the murder.

"And?"

"Before I tell you, you have a visitor."

"If it's David, tell him to go to hell."

"It's not. It's Ernie."

The boy appeared in the doorway. He was two years older than her, had blonde hair and a semi-pudgy face. He himself had a lean build with muscled arms.

"Zia…" He said, sorrow in his voice. Zia flew up and threw her arms around his neck. He held her close to him. He'd known her since she was eleven; he had been thirteen at the time. He was her tutor in controlling her… oddness, as she put it. Her father refused to let her own a wand. But her magic was there, and it was strong, though she deferred from using it. He was the only who knew, besides David, Vicky and the head of security.

She would be eighteen in a few months' time. And he would take her away, he decided. His little sister in many ways but blood, but he'd take her away.

"I'm so, so sorry." He said into her hair. "And I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier."

"It's fine." She said, burrowing her head in his chest. "You're here, that's all what matters."

Ernie stayed for a few hours, holding her hand, listening to her talk. Eugene was relieved, she'd finally started to open up.

"Mr Long, phone for you." His walkie-talkie sounded. He made his way to his office, which was in the far side of the house.

"Yes?" He said into the speaker.

"I've arranged for new security, Mr Long, they will be arriving shortly."

It meant he had to show Ernie the door. Ernie wasn't to know about the new security.

. . .

"So this is it?" Malfoy asked, looking at the house. Though calling it a house was possibly an insult.

"He's got money, Malfoy." Harry replied. "He must think money can buy love."

"Money isn't exactly everything."

"Say we."

"Yes. Think about it, when have we ever spent our income on anything besides the basics and new arms?"

"Don't utilize me." Harry snapped at him. "I know money isn't everything. But how else will they take us in? We're adrenaline junkies, you moron."

"You pain me, Potter."

"Do I now?"

"Shut up."

"At least it's not 'screw you'."

"Seeing as that would be highly inappropriate."

"Exactly."

Neither of them were sure what these bantering comments meant, was it friendly or more meant in manner of sarcasm?

The tall wrought-iron gates opened, almost as if in slow-motion. It made Harry think of Hogwarts a bit. They were in a car Stine had given them, their bags packed, mostly loaded with arms, in the boot.

A tall man awaited them. His hair was in a modern cut. He waved at the car that was leaving the gates they had just entered. Harry caught sight of the driver – for a moment he thought the person was familiar.

"Messrs Ferret and Horntail." He said once they were out of the car. "I am Eugene Long. Head of Security." They shook hands.

"For the record, we're Malfoy and Potter. Now that we're joining the security business." Harry told him, motioning to himself and Malfoy when their last names were mentioned.

"And not to mention that I loathe being called a ferret." Malfoy commented.

"Get over it."

"I don't trust either of you." Long said. "I don't trust Stine either. My superior is Mazia Stine, I take her orders only. If I find out you two tried anything, I won't hesitate."

With that he turned around, motioning with a finger for them to follow them.

"Friendly greeting." Harry said under his breath, causing Malfoy to snicker. Their bags were being taken to their new quarters by one of the servants.

"You are to meet Miss Stine first." Long went on. "Then the maids will show you to your rooms. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are to be taken with me, Miss Stine and, if they are here, Mr Stine and Ernie when you are here. Ernie is her tutor." He didn't beat around the bush.

"Was it him that just left?"

"Yes. If he asks, you're my guests."

"Why?"

"Here we are." Long announced, ignoring the question. They were outside a study. He lifted a hand and knocked softly. The door opened, revealing a girl, nearly an adult. Green, murky eyes with long, dark hair.

"Zia, this is…" Long began.

"My new security." She finished in a cynical tone. "Of course. Your names?"

"I'm Harry Potter." Harry introduced himself, extending a hand. She took it and shook – she had a firm grip.

"Draco Malfoy." Malfoy said, also extending a hand.

"What makes you two so special?" She asked. Her manner wasn't friendly. In fact, it seemed as if she loathed them. "And how old are you?"

"We're highly trained individuals." Malfoy answered. "And we're two years your senior."

"I see. Is that all, Eugene?"

"Yes." He said, nodding. She closed the door with a snap again, returning to the table. Eugene had given her a stack of papers. Documents, newspaper clippings, receipts… all to do with Vicky's murderer, and her would-be murderer. Apparently, the attacker was an assassin. Hired by none other than her father's rival. How predictable.

**A grateful note: Thank you to all who reviewed. I will get to your stories, I promise.**


	5. Chapter 4: Attempt number 2

**A/N: Hello, people of fanfiction. Thanks to Muentiger, Nitrogirl, Batmarcus, swimdiva87, Z-Aquarius-Kai, Susan Sewell and AnimationNut.**

**Yet again I am astounded by the amount of alerts and faves I received, even a C2 or two. So thanks everyone.**

**With this I welcome my new co-author, Batmarcus, who just so happens to also be an awesome friend.**

**Chapter 4: Attempt number 2**

Zia wondered about the new arrivals. Both were young, good-looking, definitely not idiots – so why were they here?

She was surrounded by books and sheets of papers, photographs and on one knee, perched precariously, was a notebook, in which a number of notes were. She tapped the ballpoint pen on a piece of paper, as though an important fact was escaping her, but it was right in front of her.

Her mind drifted back to the two arrivals. What made them so special that her father (though she refused to acknowledge him as such) would hire them as help?

_You're so judgemental. _Her inner voice sneered. She scowled at the paper, nearly setting it to fire.

"Zia?"

Zia jumped so high in fright that papers flew everywhere. She scoffed loudly and lifted a hand in the air. The papers flew into her hand, not by some accident either.

"Getting better, I see." Eugene commented, a small smile playing around his lips. She grinned at him.

"It's fantastic, Eugene." She said. "Now if only I could convince David to get me a wand…"

"Can't you order one over the internet?"

Zia burst out in laughter, getting up. She waved a hand; the papers filed themselves onto her newly inserted desk.

"Eugene, that's a stupid question." She breathed. He smiled, recognizing her old self.

"It's dinnertime. Be nice to our guests, will you?"

"I shall be polite, gallant and extremely interested in their lives." She said, putting on a horrible high voice.

"Zia…" Eugene sighed.

"Relax, I'll be… agreeable."

"That's all I ask."

They walked down the hall together. Eugene's eyes were sharp. He didn't miss any movement at all. The shadows shifted as he and Zia made their way downstairs.

In the dining hall the two allies were already waiting, deep in discussion. At the arrival of their senior and Zia, they stopped.

"You should know that hushed discussions are never secret in this house." Zia said nonchalantly.

"She's right – the security is tight."

Zia snickered.

"Anything on your mind?" Eugene asked her. She shook her head, playing innocent.

"Let's sit down, shall we?" She suggested.

"Seems a wise choice." Harry piped up. Zia met his eyes and offered a polite smile.

Eugene pulled a seat out and motioned for Zia to sit.

"Thank you."

Once they were all seated, servants entered the room, placing a dish in front of each.

"How old are you two?" Zia asked.

"I'm nineteen. I turn twenty in July." Harry answered. "We're about the same age." He motioned to Malfoy.

"I see."

"And you're seventeen – eighteen in April."

"Of course." She didn't question how he knew it.

"I'm twenty four." Eugene felt a little left out.

"Yes. We wanted to know that." Zia said, pretending to hanging to his every word.

"Sod off, Cuz."

"You know you love me."

"It's because I'm forced to."

"It's not my fault you sit in the same boat as me."

"Was your grammar correct?"

"I don't really care."

"I'll call a tutor."

"You would?"

"Yes."

"Even after what I did to the tutor last time?"

He grimaced at the memory. It wasn't a pretty one. The tutor had corrected an essay Zia was supposed to write, and Zia was angry. She'd argued that her essay was correctly written, her grammar included. The quarrel went on for an hour before Zia phoned a University professor – and, as it turned out, Zia was right. The tutor ran from the house, covered in pink paint and macaroni.

"I'll make sure the kitchen and the shed is locked."

"Not that it would stop me." Zia grinned wickedly.

"A friend of mine's brother once left the house covered in parsnips." Harry commented.

"How did you manage that?" Zia asked, dumbstruck.

"He was being a prat to his family – and his sister and two of his brothers didn't take kindly to it."

"Two of his brothers? Is that to say there are more?"

"Yes – they were six boys." Malfoy added. "Now five."

"What happened?"

"In a… fight, shall I say? One of the brothers… died."

"That's awful!"

Neither man answered, but Harry hung his head in shame. He should've stayed there for the Weasleys.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back.

"Nothing could've changed it, Potter." Malfoy said softly.

"I know."

Zia and Eugene shared a confused look.

"When was the fight?" She asked.

"About two years ago."

_The same year I barely saw Ernie… He said something about having to fight._

"I'm sorry to hear it." Zia said sincerely.

Harry smiled at her. "Thank you."

"You're going soft, Potter." Draco sang under his breath.

. . .

"Eugene!"

"No need to yell, I'm here." Eugene said, rubbing his ear. They were in her room, he just keeping an eye on her, while she was going over her stacks of paper.

"I figured it out!"

"Yes?" He enquired.

"You'll have to sleep in my room tonight."

"Your new guards will like that."

"You are my cousin – illegitimate, like me, and therefore you and I must stick together."

"The fact that I am a highly trained security guard, or else known as a multi-purpose fighter…"

"I get it, Eugene, you're multi-talented." She cut across him.

"Thank you for being bearable at dinner."

"That was random – and you're welcome."

. . .

Draco took the first shift for the night. At two he'd wake Potter to take over. He set a sneakoscope on the bedside table.

At a quarter to two he made his way to his bed, after putting on his pyjamas.

The siren sounded as the sneakoscope span.

_Of course, of all the time times to attack it's when I want to sleep. _Draco thought bitterly, reaching for his wand and storing a gun in the holster of his hip. _And when I'm in my nightclothes… fantastic._

He sneaked down the hall; it was on the same floor as Zia's room. He hugged the walls, wishing to remain unseen in the shadows. His wand was raised, expecting an attacker to jump out at every turn. He was certain even one of the cameras couldn't see him.

_Whoever interrupted my almost nap is going to pay – and in more ways than one._

Still he saw no movement ahead. He reached Zia's door, and saw a wavering light. It was a shadow. Draco softly pushed the door open. Hid breath hitched at the sight. A masked gunman was standing over Zia, his arm pointed at her head. She was peacefully asleep.

Draco lifted his wand, casting a soft _Reducto _at the gun. The explosion woke Zia. The second the spell made contact with the gun, Draco tackled him. The attacker rolled over, making to draw a knife from his belt. Draco was already clutching it. He discarded his wand and pulled the gun from his hip, pointing both the gun and knife at the man's throat.

"Are you all right"? Draco asked, not looking away.

"I'm fine." She scowled. "Can I have that?" She asked, pointing at the rifle.

"Why? And would you stop scowling at me like that?"

Zia rolled her eyes. "I want to draw flowers with it. It couldn't be that I would hold it to his skull and perhaps interrogate him?"

"Here." He handed her the gun. "But don't pull the trigger until I say so, got it?" He rolled his eyes at her attitude. He really wished Potter was on duty.

That was the wrong thing to say. Zia stood up on her bed, and aimed the shooter at Draco.

"Let's get one thing straight. I am the proprietor; you are the employee – not the other way around."

"All right, then, ma'am, though you want to point that at the one trying to kill you, not the one that saved your life." His tone was scathing.

"I knew he was coming, Mr Malfoy." She leered.

"You did a great job preparing us, didn't you?"

"Eugene is in the bathroom." She snapped. She could hear the tap running. "How about we stop arguing, we can kill each other later, and interrogate this bastard?" The arm was now pointed at the masked man.

"Now we're on the same page." Draco turned back. He pulled the ski-mask off. "Who are you?"

Zia recognized the face.

"He doesn't speak English. His name is Sebastian Fahr. German assassin."

"I don't speak German."

"Neither do I." She shrugged. She remembered a phrase she once must've heard in a movie or read in a book. "DU HAST EIN GROSLEN MUND WEILST DU HAST EIN KLEINEN… I can't remember the last word."

"Does it matter? We won't understand him either way. Maybe we should just kill him."

Zia glared at him. "I'll kill his boss; I am not some low-life assassin!"

Draco flinched. It seemed that she hated his kind. Not that she knew he was part of that criteria – she just thought they were simple guards.

"What do you suggest, then?" He asked.

"Give him to Eugene – he'll know what to do."

"All right, but I am _not_ going into the bathroom."

"No need." Eugene emerged from the en suite bathroom, holding a toothbrush. "I was just brushing my teeth." Draco quirked an eyebrow. Eugene wore only his jeans. "No – I am not sleeping with her, she's my cousin."

This seemed to be news to Draco, but he quickly gathered himself.

"I don't know who you sleep with – and I don't really care either. You want a crack at him?" He motioned to the now-terrified man on the floor.

"Yes. Hold this." He handed his toothbrush to Zia – who took it carefully. She withheld a shiver.

"Don't lie, Mr Malfoy, I saw the look of suspicion in your eyes when I appeared half-undressed. No harm done, though, I would assume the worst too." Eugene looked at Zia. "Please?"

She aimed a kick at Sebastian's skull. He slumped, unconscious. Eugene picked the assassin up and carried him out the room. Zia threw the toothbrush in the rubbish bin.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy."

"What just happened?"

"My cousin carried Fahr off, he has his methods. And I hate toothbrushes. Why do you ask?"

"Just asking. What's the time."

"Two fifteen. I'll sleep in another room for the rest of the night."

"All right. It's time to switch with Potter anyways."

She nodded, hid a smile from him and left the room.

Draco shook his head. "What's up with her?"

Draco entered Potter's room and shook the latter roughly.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Potter grumbled.

"It's your shift – and where were you a few minutes ago?"

"I was sleeping!" Harry said defensively. "Why, what happened?"

"Not much. Just a near assassination."

"_Almost? _Ha! That proves we are superior."

"Yes, but were we as good as we're supposed to be, he would not have gotten in."

"Are you suggesting we sleep in the same room as her? Oh, she'll love that." Harry said sarcastically.

"Just take over, Potter, it's my turn to sleep."

"I'm going." Potter said, getting up. "Where's your gun?"

"Damn it, I left it with Zia."

"You're on a first name basis?" Potter quirked an eyebrow.

"I… NO! It just sort of slipped out!"

"Wait… you like he?"

"No… I… Potter, just go! Go now!" Draco shoved Potter towards the door.

"Okay, I'll ask her for the gun. It looks like I'll be doing my shift half-nude."

Draco started to pull him back.

"No, get dressed, Potter."

. . .

**A/N: Again, thanks to Batmarcus. **


	6. Chapter 5: The First Spark

**A/N: Thanks again to my wonderful co-author, Batmarcus. Neither of us own HP, but I do, however, claim Zia, Eugene and Vicky. Oh, and David.**

**Thanks to: Muentiger, Moonraven81, AnimationNut and swimdiva87.**

**Oh a warning, some swearing in this chapter.**

**Chapter 5: The First Spark.**

Zia opened her eyes unwillingly. Her guardian for the night was perched on a chair, facing away from her. She admired the glossy black that was his hair. She snapped herself out of her reverie, pushing the blankets back.

"Morning, Miss Stine." Potter greeted her, not glancing back.

"Morning, Potter." She yawned. "Would you mind leaving for a minute? I need to… gather myself."

He nodded, rising from the chair.

He closed the door behind him, but didn't leave. To use an American term, Zia was a complete bad-ass – according to Draco. She'd threatened to kill him if he didn't give her the arm.

Minutes later Zia reappeared, dressed in a bathrobe. She swept a hand through her untied hair, not caring that they lay in ten different directions. Harry smiled, forgetting himself. His hair refused to sat down at most times.

They walked to the dining room together, sitting down they greeted the others. Eugene smiled at his cousin, whilst Draco only nodded to them both. Zia sat next to Eugene, whilst the two allies shared the other side of the table.

The maids carried in the trays of breakfast foods. Zia groaned when she saw what it was. Eggs and bacon.

She stared at the plate of eggs and bacon in front of her and pushed it away, nauseated. Eugene was digging in, making her wonder if she should not have a pigpen made for him. Malfoy ate his breakfast with grace, a feat not easily attainable at all. As for Potter, he was staring at his food.  
>'Aren't you hungry, Mr Potter?' She asked, concerned. <p>

"Not really at the moment thank you." He replied, avoiding her gaze. Next to him, Draco snorted lightly, though not pausing in the action of eating. 

'Something on your mind, Mr Malfoy?' Zia asked innocently, waving a servant towards her and motioning for her to take her own plate as well as Harry's. Had Vicky been there, she would've insisted on some porridge for Zia – but she wasn't, so Zia didn't think about it. 

"Not at all. Potter simply has quite the attitude some days." He answered, smirking at Harry.

Harry turned a dashing shade of burgundy.

"Fuck off, Malfoy." 

Eugene glared at the two of them. "Language, please, Zia hates a lot of things, and swearing is one those things."

Zia snorted.

"Yes, Eugene, so stop your fucking swearing." She smiled sweetly, pushing herself away from the table. She went to stand over at a large open window that overlooked the mountains. She saw the emerald trees, the grassy slopes, the white stones in the river... How she longed to escape her prison, even for the tiniest while... Just to feel natural grass, grass that the wild bucks in the area feasted on. A stray rabbit hopped into view, causing Zia to jump forward excitedly. She braced herself against the steel frame, having almost toppled out. 

"What is it?" Harry asked as he walked over to the window. It was still his shift, after all, he could not have her falling out a window – which she had almost done. 

"Look!" She exclaimed, her voice thrilling. "It's a hare!" She leaned forward as the rabbit hopped to an exceptional green piece of grass. 

"Haven't you ever seen one before?" Harry asked, surprised that someone could be so excited to see something he himself had seen many times. 

_Then again_, he thought to himself, _she is a muggle and she was not transforming hares into goblets when she was fourteen._

"Mr Potter, I've been locked in this manor for thirteen years." She said, not looking away from the creature that was nibbling the moist grass. "Before that I have no memory at all." 

"That is very unfortunate, I'm sorry, I did not know." He lied, walking back towards the table. He'd seen her record, and how she had been imprisoned. 

The rabbit hopped away, leaving Zia. Her hands fell to her side, downcast. Sighing deeply she turned around.  
>"I'll see you guys." She said, turning to leave the room. <p>

"Wait, Zia!" Eugene called her back.

"What?"

"The guard on duty should be with you at all times. David called this morning, it's a new order."  
>"Of course, and he knows what's best, doesn't he?" She sneered. "Bloody coward." She walked away again, not waiting for Harry. The latter scurried to keep up with her. <p>

"You seem far too bitter for seventeen year old girl. He's just trying to keep you safe." Harry commented from a few feet behind her. 

She glared at him.

"By locking me up? Give him a pat on the shoulder, then, why don't you?" She spat, speeding up. 

"You know," he said, still keeping his pace matched evenly with hers, "I would've killed to have parents, even if they did lock me up. I understand wanting to get out and enjoy life, believe me, but being bitter to almost everyone won't help you at all." His tone was icy.

She rounded on him, fire in her eyes.

"My father is ashamed of me, of my existence! Me being here! I have two friends, TWO! And one of them is my cousin! I know about your parents, Mr Potter, in fact I know more than I should! My mother was shot dead by him, by that man that claims he is protecting me! Haven't you noticed the attacks? And I'm supposedly safe? The only mother I ever knew was murdered a few days ago, and I wasn't even allowed to attend her funeral!" Zia yelled at him, angry tears running down her cheeks. "Mr Potter, I am in his eyes not even a proper person." 

"Let's get a few things straight. You know NOTHING about me, or my parents, or the hell that I have called a life up until this point. You say that he doesn't think of you as a proper person? I know the feeling. My aunt and uncle felt the same about me. You say your life is so horrible being locked in a mansion? Try being locked in a cupboard under the stairs and nearly starved to death on a regular basis. And if he does not care about then why put you here? Why hire all this security? Whether you think so or not, he does in some small place in his black heart, care about you!" Harry said hotly.

He knew he should not have lost his temper like that, he should have more self-control, but something about her attitude seemed to put him on edge. Zia's hand lifted the air, and for a moment Harry expected a sharp sting to his cheek. None came. Zia's eyes were filled with cold fury, tears leaking.

He did it. He'd made her cry. He hated himself for it.

Her hand was inches away from his cheek, and he suddenly wished that she had slapped him. 

"My security is so that his business stay the way they are. And I don't know anything, you say? Dudley, Marge, Ripper. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin. The marauders. Traitorous Wormtail. I even know about the cupboard and your toy horses." She shot back. "And yes, I know you're... Odd." She'd seen his records. His school records, and she had received several letters that had been passed over the years. Yet, the only oddness she knew about him, was the happenings in his first school.

Harry realised that Zia Stine had no idea that he was a wizard _or _an assassin – something he intended to keep that way.

What she did next caught him off guard.

She took a step forward, whispering the next part. "I know I shouldn't pity myself - it's why I'm hunting down Vicky's murderer."

Harry's breath hitched at their sudden closeness. A smile played across her lips, a forced one.

"I apologize for my loss of temper, Mr Potter, but I beg you to understand. There's a master player in this game, and the target is me, unless I play defence."

Why did he feel like he was being given a Quidditch lecture? 

"How do you know these things?" He asked before she could back away from him. He really had not expected her to know what she did. 

"I don't trust David blindly." She grimaced. She seemed so much older than merely seventeen.

"Then, maybe your smarter than I gave you credit for." He said smugly, backing away from her. 

'Indeed, Mr Potter. I shall try to not take that as an insult.' 

He gave a lopsided smile.

"You should." Then he added in an undertone that she really had to strain to hear: "Doesn't speak volumes, I thought you were pretty smart to begin with." 

She nearly smiled at him. "I am intelligent, Harry James Potter. Trust me on that." 

He simply inclined his head in agreement as she walked down the hall. He remained stationary for a while.

"Well, Potter, I have not seen you that tongue-tied in a long time. You're going soft." Malfoy appeared at the other end of the hallway, a smirk placed on his sharp features.

"Don't get the wrong impression, Draco, I'm not the one who gave her my gun." Harry shot back 

"She's the employer, Potter. I don't control her. And shouldn't you be guarding her?" Malfoy's tone was patronising. 

"Fine." Harry grumbled, taking a spot outside her bedroom door.

Draco snickered. "With her, Potter. As in inside? His orders, not mine."  
>"Fine, just go grease your hair some more or whatever it is you do with your free time." Harry snapped bitterly as he entered the room and closed the door behind him. Just as he turned around, Zia exited the en suite bathroom, just a towel around her body.<p>

She paused when she caught sight of Harry, her face burning, she turned heel and hurried back to the bathroom. 

_Well, that was awkward,_ Harry thought, turning to face the door.

"Mr Potter?" She called from the bathroom. The gentility of her voice, the octave it somehow owned, caught him off guard. "Could you please hand me my clothes? They're on the bed!"  
>"Of course." He said, grabbing them off the bed and handing them into the bathroom. As soon as the clothing articles were lifted he extracted his hand. He returned to his post at the door. <p>

Zia took the clothes and quickly got dressed. Why she had picked today of all days to wear a sundress, she did not know. She exited the bathroom, taking no notice of Harry as she sat at the desk. 

"I'm sorry about that, I should have knocked first." Harry said, staring at the floor 

"It's fine, Mr Potter. I'm in no way a prude; you just caught me off guard." She answered lightly, a trace of a smile in her words.  
>"It's not about you being a prude, it's just common decency." Harry said, still not looking up from the floor.<br>"I said it's all right, now please leave the poor floor alone." 

"Alright." He looked up and met her eyes. She was turned in her seat. "Listen about what I said earlier..."

"Forget it." She cut across him, turning to her cluttered desk.

"No, I was way out of line."

"I'm not saying you weren't, Mr Potter, but I'd rather not discuss it. It's clear we both have problems."

"Fair enough." Harry reasoned. He had been in enough arguments to know that here he was fighting a losing battle. "So, what are your plans for the day?"

"What I do every day. I plan to take over the world." She sighed, staring out the window. She turned back to the papers, flipping through them. Every now and then she'd pull out a page and add it to another pile. Harry watched her fingers, wondering if she had some sort of pattern. Soon his attention turned to her hands. Small in size, seemingly fragile and dainty. Incredibly lady-like – it contrasted with what he'd experienced with her so far. She was so… tomboy-ish, with a dark and moody side.

And let's not forget the violent side.

Soon the shuffling of papers started to annoy him.

"What exactly are you doing, anyway?" Harry asked after nearly ten minutes of watching her shuffle papers. It was some sort of crazy game she must be playing, he thought. 

"Sorting. Those that might attack me... Hm..." She frowned, picking up a page and holding it up for Harry to see. His breath caught as he stared back at his own face, though in the photograph it was somewhat dirtied and his hair covered his eyes.

"This Mr Horntail looks remarkable like you, you know." She frowned.

"There's only so many faces in the world, some of them are bound to be similar." He said as calmly as he could. Inside he was panicking, she was smart, really smart and if she found Mr Ferret their cover would be blown sky high. "How are you even sure that any of these people are alive anyway?" He added, hoping to distract her for a few minutes.

"Eugene's a walking encyclopaedia when it comes to assassins." She said nonchalantly, flipping another page. She had skipped the page containing him, not adding him to the other pile.  
>"He can't exactly be up to date if you're both stuck in here all the time." Harry was starting to panic; he knew Draco's face could not be far from his. <p>

"He has friends and accomplices on the outside of this house; I'm the only one whose best friends happen to be her security guard and tutor. I have never had a girlfriend, you know.' She flipped another page. 

_Damn it! _Harry thought. Without thinking, he said the only thing he thought might distract her.

"Would you like to go outside?"

She looked at him sharply, her eyes narrowed. "As inviting as that is, sir, my priorities are currently at Vicky's murderer. Not the one that pulled the trigger."

The determination set in her face frightened Harry – he'd seen that in Hermione once.

"Fine, Then I must to ask if there is any way I can help, before you get lost in pictures again?" He asked. 

"You can do what David's paying you to do. Or you can go shopping and bring me back something decent to wear." 

"I won't go shopping if you don't come with me. Fair trade?" He said, walking over to stand behind her. He noticed Draco's picture (which she had not reached yet) was on the next page.

"Mr Potter, I am not allowed out of here. If you attempt to remove me from Stine property, you will be shot." She was now lifting the page. 

Thinking quickly Harry grabbed the page with Malfoy's face on it and went to the other side of the room.

"You really need to unwind you want the paper come get it." He smirked. 

Zia glared at him, jumping up she stormed at him, arms outstretched. Harry lifted the page in the air, making it necessary for her to jump. Yet, no matter how high, she jumped, she was too short.

"Come on, Potter!" 

"Hey, it's not my fault you can't jump high enough!" He teased, still holding the page up out of her grasp.

Harry did not want to admit it, but he was enjoying this much more than he should have been. 

Zia stopped hopping, raising a suggestive eyebrow. She took a step closer to Harry, backing him up against the wall as his heart hammered against his ribcage. 

"Wh... what... a...are you doing?" Harry asked, stammering more than Neville used to when he was nervous.

"Do I make you nervous, Mr Potter?" She asked playfully, eyeing the page that's slowly making its way down. 

"I..don't kn...know what you're talking about." Harry said defiantly, looking anywhere but down into her eyes. Her green eyes that had haunted him the previous night… 

She stood on her toes, a hand played through his hair. Who knew Zia could flirt? 

"Would you please stop?" Harry asked, even though he was enjoying the feel of her hand running through his hair. 

At that moment the door flew open. 

"Hey, cuz, it's Malfoy's..." Eugene nearly lost his train of thought."'... shift." he finished. He stared at the pair, not knowing what to say. Seconds later Draco appeared behind him. 

"Ummm...Hi." Harry said, somewhat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.  
>Zia removed her hand from his hair and took a step back, her face burning.<p>

"What is going here?" Eugene asked, looking accusingly at Harry, ignoring the fact that Zia had been the one pinning Harry to the wall.

"Nothing, just a friendly discussion." Harry said firmly, tucking the page with Draco's face into his pocket.

"You come with me, Mr Potter!" Eugene said hotly, shoving Draco into the room.

Zia nodded to Draco, and then sat down again, a grimace covering her features. It was evident she was heavily annoyed. 

"I know that look, what did Potter do now?" 

"Interfered in my work. Before you ask, I'm sorting through assassins that might attack me. Look, doesn't this look like Potter?" She lifted the paper that had Mr Horntail's face on it. "'He's supposed to be one of the best. I can't find his accomplice, though..." 

"It looks, similar, but there's no way this could be Potter. I've known him a long time and although he is many things, a killer is not one of them." Draco lied easily.

He realised what page Harry must have stowed in his pocket and was inwardly thankful he had acted when he did. 

"If you can't kill, it'll be hard when someone attacks again. Though you are different, aren't you, Mr Malfoy? You offered to kill Mr Fahr last night." 

"Yes, well, when I say he is not a killer, I mean neither of us would kill without cause and almost killing the person we were hired to protect seems a good cause to me, wouldn't you agree?" 

"Not if the person you're protecting is me." Zia grimaced, rubbing her wrist self-consciously. A thin red line was still visible there. 

"You cut yourself?" Draco asked, sparing her a worried look.  
>She didn't answer, but continued her crazy game of flipping the pages.<p>

"Alright. I'll just sit over here, then, shall I?" He asked, taking the seat Harry had been in earlier.

She stood up, discomforted by now not even having the privacy to pace in her own room. She wrenched the door open, stomping down the stairs, her bare feet making an uncommonly loud noise.  
><em>Wonder what I said?<em> Draco asked himself as he followed her out. 

Zia stomped all the way to her former nanny's room. Frustration had reached its toll. She couldn't do anything! She could have the technological crap she wanted, but she wanted freedom. To get out and make friends, friends that were not her tutor or her guard! These new workers, Malfoy and Potter, didn't care about her! All they wanted was the fat cheque her father, who she refused to acknowledge as such, would write down.

She started to cry silently. Frustrated by never going outside, by having no real friends, no mother. No father. She hid her face in the blankets on Vicky's bed. 

Draco stared at her, not having expecting this. He was never good at handling emotions – and that included his own.

He made a choice. He remembered the room she was in and set off to find Long and Potter. 

. . .

"Care to explain?" Eugene asked Harry bitingly. 

"Nothing to explain. All I told her is that she should stop worrying so much and loosen up. What do you want me to say?" 

"I want to know why you were pushed against a wall? And enjoying it? She is your employer, Mr Potter. What did you hide in your pocket, if I may ask? It was Zia's personal documents... Ah, the Mr Horntail and Mr Ferret pages? I understand."

Harry started, Eugene was incredibly quick on the uptake. 

"Yes, I thought you might. She said you gathered these. Anyways, as for the situation you found us in, she wanted the page back. I wouldn't let her have it, for obvious reasons, and somehow it resulted in that." Harry said, looking away from Eugene. 

Eugene nodded. "You should know that, about a month ago, she had an attempted suicide."

The memory horrified him. It had been right after Vicky's murder. Zia had used a pair of scissors, attempting to cut her wrists. Eugene had made Ernie rush over and fix it. 

"What? Why? She seems so much more composed than that." Harry said, worried in spite of himself. _Maybe I am going soft,_ he wondered. 

"As she yelled at you, she has no mother, no friends and no freedom. I heard what you answered her, but you have Malfoy. I think he's a friend of yours, even if you don't think so. She has me, and I'm family, it doesn't count," 

"I'm not sure on Malfoy sometimes. He's my only ally. Why can't you just let her go outside? Or to someplace other than here on occasion?" Harry asked 

"The house is being watched by David's enemies. I had tried, believe me, but it ended with a guard being shot."

"You could try again. Believe me no one likes to be locked up like this. There has to be something we can do." 

"I'm working on it." Eugene hissed through gritted teeth.

**. . .**

**A/N: Please review!**


	7. Chapter 6: Freedom

**A/N: Thanks to Muentiger, AveryTheElf, AnimationNut, and exnaybrat89.**

**Credit goes to my wonderful co-author, Batmarcus.**

**Chapter 6: Freedom.**

Eugene and Harry were walking down the hall, a stony silence hung between them. Eugene was under the impression Zia's guard had made advances on her, entirely ignoring the fact that Zia had been the one doing the cornering.

"Mr Long!" Malfoy yelled, running up to them from behind.

"Why aren't you on duty, Mr Malfoy?" Eugene asked, his tone indicating he was irate.

"It's Zia. She's crying in some room and I'm not sure what to do. She seems more moody than usual." Draco panted.

"You've been here scarcely two days – my cousin is certainly not that moody." His expression shifted. "Wait, she's crying? And you left her alone? Oh..." he looked as if he wanted to murder Malfoy. "Where is she?" He yelled.

Draco told him what room he had left her in.

He and Harry were marvelled by the speed he took off.

"What's wrong? She's just crying." Draco said as he and Harry hurried to catch up to Eugene.

"She suffers from chronic depression." Harry answered. "One suicide attempt already."

"How was I supposed to know that? How do you know that, Potter?" Malfoy asked, dumbfounded. He'd already forgotten about the red mark on her wrist.

"There're cuts on her wrists." Harry had noticed the dirty red marks on her wrists. "And Long told me."

"I noticed, but we're almost there. How much damage can she have done?" Malfoy asked. Harry knew then that Malfoy's words would be ironic. It proved true when he heard glass shatter.

"We'll have to find out." Harry said grimly.

They opened the door, gasping at the sight. Zia was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Harry's eyes flitted to her wrists immediately – no fresh marks. Eugene wasn't there, but the window was shattered.

Zia's eyes fluttered open, her hands flew to her gut. Her face contorted in pain and her hands became bloody. Tears formed in her eyes.

Harry knew that the bullet had been shot only seconds ago. And there had been a struggle' her hair was out of place and her dress torn.

"EUGENE!" Both Harry and Malfoy yelled at the same time, forgetting formalities. Harry rushed to Zia's side and he put pressure on the wound. A small wound that was bleeding profusely.

"Down here!" Eugene's muffled voice yelled. Malfoy rushed towards the window. He leaned out and saw Eugene at the bottom. He was standing, but his one arm was clutched in the other.

There was someone else there too, lying on the grass. His head surrounded by scarlet.

"Call David right now, and tell him his daughter's dead." He called indignantly.

"She's not dead!" Harry yelled. He finally had enough pressure that the bleeding had almost completely stopped. Both his hands and her hands were on the wound. She was trying to talk, but all that came out were gasps. Harry lifted a bloody hand and pressed it to her forehead, smoothing her hair back. He stared into her teary eyes.

"It'll be all right." He promised her in a whisper.

"I don't give a damn, just do it!" Eugene kicked the dead man. "And call Ernie too, his number is the only other one in the house."

"Alright, but what do we do about Zia?" Harry screamed, desperation seeping into his voice. He'd promised her, after all.

"Call Ernie and tell him to be quick about it!"

"Draco go call him. I've got Zia." Harry said motioning Draco towards the door as he kept one hand at her gut to stop her from bleeding out.

Eugene scowled at the now dead assassin. He bent down, picking up the man with his unbroken arm, allowing the broken ligament to rest at his side. He hauled him to the nearby stream and threw him in.

. . .

Ernie wrenched the front door open; he hurried up the stairs to Vicky's room. He didn't even see the two other men's faces. He immediately went to Zia's side.

"'Oh my gosh. Did you call David?"

"Yes, we did I think he's on his way over." Harry said, glancing over at Malfoy for confirmation.

"Good. Thank you." He waved his hands over her, his eyes closed. "'Where's Long?"

"He's on his way up here. He had a mess to clean up." Harry answered him. So this was the famous Ernie?

"Good. Now, might I ask what you are doing here? As far as my knowledge stretches, my student is forbidden from entertaining." He said keeping his eyes a millimetre above the Zia. His hands were trembling slightly.

"We're new security. Malfoy here was supposed to be on duty when this happened." Harry said glaring at Malfoy for abandoning his post. He didn't dare to lift his hands from the wound.

"Malfoy?' Ernie started, looking around. His eyes shifted from Harry to Malfoy, then they widened.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?"

He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Ernie Macmillan?" They said together, stunned. What were the odds that of all the Ernies in the world, it would be him?

"This is..." He started; only to be interrupted by Eugene's entrance.

"'Hello, Ernie. Could you please try to fix my arm?"

Ernie waved his wand, his other hand still hovering over Zia.

"'Thanks. Now, will Zia be all right?"

"'Yes. She'll be out for a few days, but her magic will fix it. I cannot do much."

"That's great news, but, Ernie, what in blazes are you doing here?" Harry asked, relieved that Zia would be okay. Though his hands still didn't leave her gut. Her eyes were shut. Harry had suspected she had either passed out, or it was Ernie's doing.

"Wait, Zia's a witch?" Draco asked.

"To answer your question, Harry, I am her tutor. And yours, Malfoy, yes. My turn. What are the two of you doing here? Together? Last time I saw, you two were at each other's throats, quite literally."

"You know each other?" Eugene asked.

"Yes, we used to go to school together."

"Does that mean they are wizards?"

"Yes."

"I don't practice magic anymore." Harry grumbled. "And, Mr Long, we might want to get her to a hospital."

"And a safe house." Eugene added, nodding.

"What do you mean you don't practice magic anymore?" Ernie asked, staring at Harry in shock. Eugene gently removed Harry's hands and lifted Zia. He carried her down the stairs to the door, bridal-style.

"Never you mind." Harry said, trying to make it sound as if it's no big deal. He followed Eugene, finding him in front of the main door.

"What are you doing?"

"'Showing David that he killed his daughter."

"But she's not dead." Harry reasoned.

"David doesn't know that."

"How will it help anyone?"

"I'm taking her to a safe house, Potter." Eugene sneered.

"Then, I'm coming too." Harry said stubbornly.

"As am I." Malfoy said curtly, arriving behind them.

"I was already going." Ernie said, a grin covering his features.

They all looked at Eugene as if expecting an argument.

"Act distraught." Eugene told Ernie. "Malfoy, you show remorse. Potter... Act like you've fallen for her. Cry, sob, be angry."

"The cameras, Eugene." Ernie whispered.

"They can't hear us here."

The doorbell rang. Ernie reached out and opened the door, finding David Stine there.

"Hello, Mr. Stine." said Ernie, sounding perfectly distraught. His eyes were brimming with tears and his voice was shaky.

David looked around. Malfoy stood looking guilty. Harry stood further back glaring at the floor. It struck him as odd – it was the second time in one day that the floor was his victim.

"What happened?" He asked, not looking at Eugene.

"This ponce!" Harry said, angrily gesturing to Draco. "Abandoned his post!"

"So, it's your fault my daughter is dead?"

"No, Uncle, it's your own." Eugene said coldly.

"How can you say that Eugene?" David asked, aghast.

"How many times have I warned you? I told you it wasn't safe here, but you insisted. Now, move or I will have these fine wizards curse you to oblivion."

Stine blanched.

"Y… your all wizards?" He stammered, afraid.

Harry sighed. 'No, we're all fire-breathing faeries.'

Everyone other than Stine and Zia had to bite their lips to keep from laughing. Zia because she was deeply unconscious.

"Now, if you'll excuse us." Harry said, pushing past him.

"Where are you taking her?" He demanded.

Harry stopped and turned to face him again.

"To a magical land of ice cream and gum drops. Where do you think? The morgue!" Harry spat.

"You can't just take her!"

"Wanna try to stop us?" Malfoy challenged him.

"I'll fire the lot of you!" He threatened.

"No need. We quit!"

Eugene looked to the others. Ernie walked on, unfazed, while Malfoy hesitated. This was their biggest source of income.

He shared a knowing look with Harry.

"You dare do that, Mr Stine, this will be pinned on you."

"You couldn't possibly." Stine said, stunned.

"I don't know there's an awful lot you can do with magic." Draco said, lazily twirling his wand between his fingers.

"But...but..."

"Goodbye, Mr Stine, Potter and I will report for work tomorrow." Draco said, leading them all out of the gates.

"Where to?" He asked. "I'd suggest our place, but it's a bit of a mess."

"I teach; Hogwarts might not be the best place either." Ernie commented.

"I know." Harry said.

"Where?"

"Well, and Draco don't kill me for this, but we could take her to the Burrow." Harry said, avoiding Malfoy's gaze because he knew it would be stony.

"Fine, Potter, but don't tell anyone about... You know."

"Of course not, Draco, I'm not completely daft!" Harry said indignantly. He was surprised that he'd used Malfoy's first name.

"What are you two talking about?" Eugene asked. Zia groaned, starting to regain consciousness.

"The Burrow, it's where my friends, the Weasleys, live. She should be safe there." Harry said hurriedly, trying to rush them before she could wake up fully

"Let's go!"

. . .

**A/N: Please review!**


	8. Chapter 7: Understanding

**A/N: Well, after hours of sleep, this finally crept up. I had a cold, and Saturday I spent sleeping. Fun, isn't it?**

**Anyways, thanks to Muentiger, AnimationNut, eternallybreathless and AveryTheElf.**

**On a side note, I apologize for the amount of errors the last two chapters had. I have fixed them.**

**Another side note, this chapter is all my writing. I was inspired…**

**Chapter 7: Understanding.**

They walked until they were out of the gate and out of sight.

"We're being watched." Eugene said under his breath. Harry looked around, his eyes sharpened. He saw them all. Hidden in trees, caves, one even in the nearby river. He caught Malfoy's eye and nodded.

"We'd better hurry to get to the morgue." Harry said loudly.

"Yes." Malfoy agreed.

Eugene caught onto their train of thought quickly.

"Indeed."

Draco slid his wand out of his sleeve, and as they walked he cast the Disillusionment Charm on each of them.

The assassins started to whisper among themselves, wondering where their target has disappeared to.

"You go, Harry, I'll follow through." Malfoy whispered to him.

"Did you just call me Harry?"

"Yes. Now, take Zia from Eugene, and apparated with her. Tell Ernie to take Eugene. My job isn't done yet."

Harry caught his meaning.

"Don't you dare ask me why I'm calling all of you on your first names – the time for formalities is long gone."

"I agree, Draco." Harry said softly.

Harry neared Eugene.

"I'll take her – I can't take you both." He said.

"It's fine. I'll take him." Ernie took a hold of Eugene's arm. He gave Zia to Harry gently.

"Don't hurt her." He said worriedly.

"I won't."

Harry concentrated on the Burrow with all his might, then spun on the spot.

It had been two years since he had apparated – he'd forgotten the unpleasant sensation of being squeezed through a tight tube.

He appeared in the tall grass, soon followed by Eugene and Ernie. They remained stationary until Draco joined the party.

"One thing we need to do now, is lie." Eugene said. "I'm certain Stine's eyes will now be on the Wizarding community too."

"So… what do we say?" Ernie asked.

"Zia is my sister – and Harry is her boyfriend."

"I'm her what?" Harry asked, dumbstruck.

"You're carrying her. By default you are her boyfriend. Draco is your friend."

Ernie snorted. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy friends?"

"Shut up, Ernie." Harry sneered.

. . .

It had been a quiet day at the Burrow. Hermione and Ron were visiting for a week, as was Ginny. Arthur was currently at work – busy, busy, busy. They had just finished an elaborate breakfast, and Hermione and Ginny had volunteered to do the dishes. Hermione glanced out the window – the grass desperately needed to be cut. She smiled to herself as she remembered smelling the Amortentia in sixth year. She sighed – she missed Harry. Not for the first time she wondered where he was.

"Hermione, look." Ginny said, gazing out the window too. "Who is it?"

Hermione saw three figures approaching. She immediately recognized the one. As she watched, a fourth figure appeared.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, unsuccessful in hiding her excitement. "Ron!"

"What? What is it?" Ron ran into the kitchen, his wand at the ready.

"It's Harry!" She squealed, dropping everything and running for the kitchen door. Ron was right behind her. Ginny ran to the living room, informing her mother of Harry's return.

. . .

Harry saw them approach. They were running.

"Lying starts sooner." He said.

"Look heartbroken." Eugene said. "Malfoy, you're guilty. Ernie, you're angry. Got it?"

No one answered. Harry thought he didn't need to pretend that his heart was broken. Her pained and tear-stained face was branded into his mind. At that moment he had realised that she was only a seventeen year old girl, not an adult, but she'd been forced to grow up fast.

She had her father's willpower – he grasped. She was not going to give up on her nanny's murderer, and he'd help her.

_Have I fallen for her? _He asked himself, finding himself horrified at the idea.

"Harry!" Both his former friends shrieked. Were it not for the girl in his arms, he was certain he have been strangled by hugs.

"Hey, guys." He said nervously.

"You're back?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded.

"Permanently?"

He shrugged.

"This is Zia." He said, motioning to the girl in his arms. "And her brother, Eugene."

"And I'm certain you know Ernie and Draco."

Ron glanced at his former schoolmates – he hadn't seen either of them after school.

"Draco Malfoy?" He asked, uncertain. The blonde nodded, holding out a hand.

"Good to see you, Weasley." Draco greeted him, a neutral expression on his face.

"The same to you, Malfoy." Ron said, surprised at both his and Malfoy's reactions. Malfoy turned to Hermione.

"Morning, Granger." Malfoy held out his hand. Hermione took it, impressing him with a firm shake.

Ron, Hermione and Ernie exchanged their hellos.

"Can we please get inside? Zia needs some medical attention." Harry interrupted as they shook hands with Eugene.

"Of course, Harry, follow me." Ron said, leading the small mass of people inside.

Once they reached the door, they were met by Ginny and Mrs Weasley. Mrs Weasley was tearing up at the sight of Harry, while Ginny smiled. She took them to her old room, where he gently put Zia on the bed. The room was no longer hers, but a guestroom.

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned, looking at Zia.

"She was shot."

"How?"

"It's a really long story." Eugene said, laughing nervously.

"One we will fill you on in later." Draco promised. "For now, we should leave Harry and Ernie to see to her."

"I agree." Eugene echoed.

Together they all trooped downstairs. Mrs Weasley and Ginny was introduced to Eugene, and Mrs Weasley gave Draco a motherly hug, entirely catching him off guard.

"Everyone deserves a second chance." She said happily, patting his cheek. Draco's heart swelled – he hadn't seen his own mother in years, and he missed her. He made a mental note to visit her.

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley." He said, meaning it. She greeted Eugene the same way; then she bustled to the kitchen, saying she'd make tea.

"Hello, Malfoy." Ginny greeted him.

"Same to you, Weasley." He said, forcing pleasantry into his voice.

"Been keeping well?"

"I've been keeping excellently. You?"

"I'm currently training with the Holyhead Harpies."

"Congratulations. Harry and I own a private business."

"What type of business?"

"Just security."

"I never thought I'd see the day you called Harry on his first name. You two were permanently at war."

"War changes people."

"I know." She sighed.

"Here you go." Mrs Weasley said, returning to the living room, a tray of steaming tea on it.

"Thank you, ma'am." Draco said politely.

"Yes, thank you, madam." Eugene echoed.

After they were all seated with their choice of tea, Mrs Weasley spoke again.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?"

"My sister was shot, madam." Eugene answered. "It was an accident. Zia had just arrived at the lunch table when the gun went off."

"Do you know who did it?"

"Yes – and he's dead." Draco said impishly. Ginny gawked at him, while Mrs Weasley frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"He means that he set a terrorist straight." Eugene answered. "Were it not for him, Zia would be dead too."

No one said a word.

. . .

Harry watched Ernie do his thing. He seemed trained at healing, even a muggle-inflicted wound.

"How come you don't do magic anymore?" Ernie asked.

"I don't know." Harry answered. "I feel… betrayed by it, I guess."

Ernie nodded; a frown creasing. He was concentrating hard on removing the bullet, thus far he was failing. Magic can't do everything.

"I'm going to bandage her, all right? And either you or Eugene are to stay at her side at all times, Harry. Notify me immediately if something happens."

"Aren't you going to take it out?"

"Harry, I'm a Hogwarts teacher, not a Healer."

"But you've taken a Healer course?"

"Yes, all teachers are forced to. But this isn't a magical wound."

"Then we should take her to a muggle doctor…"

"And tell him what? I assure you, Mr Stine is now watching all stations. He'll be suspicious when he finds out Zia isn't in a morgue, and then she shows up at a doctor?"

"Ask Mrs Weasley then." Harry suggested. Ernie froze – he hadn't thought if that.

"That's actually a good idea." He mused, already on his way down.

Harry edged over to Zia's side. She was on the verge of consciousness. He wiped a stray hair from her forehead. At his touch her eyes flew open. Panic and fear was the first thing he saw. Her breaths came in short gasps. He laid a hand on her forehead again.

"Calm down, you're safe." He said soothingly. A blood-stained hand grasped his, and she closed her eyes again. Her breaths deeper, more relaxed. Harry started. Had he just caused her to calm down?

Mrs Weasley appeared in the doorway. She made her way over, and gently lifted Zia's remaining hand off the wound.

"Her brother told us how it happened. To think, you go into a restaurant and someone shoots you."

_The one thing we do now, is lie._

"It's horrible, isn't it?" Harry croaked. "Can you help her?"

"Of course, Harry. Charlie got hit numerous times when he first started his dragon-training course – for some reason the opponents preferred heavy arms to magic."

She set to work. Thirty minutes later she was finished.

"Thank you, so much, Mrs Weasley." Harry said, hugging her. She smiled her motherly smile at him.

"It's no trouble, Harry, dear. And thank you for coming back – you have no idea how much we all have missed you."

"I missed you all too. I just needed… time."

"Which is understandable. Draco mentioned the two of going into business together?"

"Yes. Security, it's something we are both good at."

A long time ago, the two allies had chosen this as their alibi, were they ever questioned about it.

"Why didn't you come back then?"

"Ma'am, I'm currently living a life without magic. I don't trust it, yet. And I'm ashamed to say that I thought it would make me an outcast."

"You will never be an outcast, Harry."

"Still, ma'am. Were it not for the business, I wouldn't have met Zia."

To add effect he glanced down at her. It worked, because Mrs Weasley smiled fondly at the pair.

"You come down when you're ready, will you?"

He looked back up at her. "Of course. Is she going to be okay?"

"She's going to be fine. A bit weak and sleepy at first, she _has _lost a lot of blood."

He nodded.

"Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"They went to get George and the others; they all insisted on seeing you, would you return."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yes, dear."

. . .

As Mrs Weasley left Ginny's old room, she passed Draco. She smiled at him and made her way down. She didn't know what to make of the situation. She had expected a number of things when Harry returned. A changed man was one of them. What she did not expect, however, was to find him in business with a person that had once been his rival. Much less him being involved with a teenage girl, not that Ginny was that much of a difference really, and him abandoning magic.

"What do you think?" Ginny asked her as she entered the kitchen. They were alone.

"Where's Eugene and Ernie?"

"Ernie volunteered to take Eugene shopping. Apparently Zia needs clothes."

"Oh. I think he's changed."

"I saw that the minute I laid eyes on him."

"Ginny, don't get started on that infatuation again…"

"Mum, really?" She scoffed. "I'm dating Dean. Because I love him, not because it's some elaborate plot to win Harry back. I'm not shallow."

"I know, dear, I was just stopping anything before it started."

"What I was referring to, was Zia."

"She's happy to be alive, I'd say."

"Does he care for her?"

"They all do." She answered simply. "It's the oddest array of people, but it's true. All four of those men care for her."

. . .

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, Draco."

Draco stepped in, closing the door behind him. He saw that Harry's back was turned to him from his seat next to her bed.

"Will she be all right?"

"I reckon so."

Draco conjured another chair at her other side. His eyes slid over Harry's hands that were both clutching one of hers. She, on the other hand, seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

"Listen… I'm really sorry for abandoning my post. If I'd just stayed there, she wouldn't have been…"

"Nonsense. As cruel as it makes me sound, her being shot is a good thing."

"How can you say that?" Draco asked, appalled.

"She's free now." Harry finally looked at his ally. "She can move around now."

"Stine will be looking into the wizardry world…"

"That's just it! We're wizards! We can shift his reality!"

Draco smirked. "This coming from the guy that has sworn magic off?"

Harry smiled. "Shut it, Malfoy."

They heard a loud BANG! from downstairs. Harry grew excited, that could only possibly be Fred or Lee. He made to get up, but he remembered Ernie's orders. He hesitated. Draco saw this.

"Go, meet your friends. I'll take watch."

"But…"

"I will not let her get shot again, okay? Oh, and if anyone asks, she was shot in a restaurant and I killed the robber."

"Violent, are we?"

"Since when do we tease one another?" Draco asked.

"We don't, Malfoy, you and I are not sexual partners."

Draco spluttered, having no retort ready, but Harry was gone. He played a hand through his hair nervously. "Well played, Potter."

. . .

Harry's steps boomed as he ran down the stairs. He saw Ron first, and euphoria overtook him. He flung his arms around his old friend.

"Hello again, Harry." He laughed. "I guess he missed us."

Harry extracted himself from Ron and embraced Hermione.

"I guess he did." She laughed. "We missed you too, Harry."

"We all did." The airy voice of who could only be Luna Lovegood said. Harry smiled, for the first time in years he smiled a true smile. A happy smile.

He didn't have to feel guilty; they all made it entirely clear.

But as they all reminded Harry of the lost loved ones, Harry's depression returned. _Their words are just to make me seem better, but it's my fault. It's all my fault. I should've been more tactful…_

Harry didn't say goodbye, he just silently backed out of the crowd and went upstairs again. To the two people in this world that was sure to understand him.

. . .

**A/N: Please review!**


	9. Chapter 8: One on One

**A/N: Thanks to Muentiger, Batmarcus, The FanFicGirl, the AnimationNut, Nitrogirl and etenallybreathless for reviewing the last chapter.**

**This was, yet again, co-written with the amazing Batmarcus. And I shall be starting the dedications thingie – firstly, thanks to Muentiger who has, thus far, reviewed every chapter. This is for you.**

**Chapter 8: One-on-One.**

Harry was sitting on the chair beside the bed. The night was creeping into the witching hour. He'd told Draco to go to sleep – he and Eugene were now sharing Fred and George's old room. Charlie and George were sharing Charlie's old room, while Ron and Hermione had opted for Ron's attic room. Ginny had volunteered to sleep on one of the couches, while the guests had either gone home or were now part of a large family bed that littered the living room.

No one had questioned Harry about where he'd wanted to sleep. They'd assumed he'd want to be with his "girlfriend", entirely ignoring the fact that was seventeen and he nineteen (nearly twenty).

He was fighting fatigue. His neck screamed, while his back spasmed. It was the second night he wouldn't be sleeping. The tiny hand in his twitched. Mrs Weasley had taken it upon herself to bathe the girl, filling her usually motherly role.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" She questioned, her voice tired. He jumped, he didn't realise she was awake.

"I just couldn't sleep. How are you?" He asked tenderly.

"I was shot. I must be feeling orgasmic." She replied sarcastically. He winced at her tone – and word-usage. "Sorry, those words were improper."

"No need." He chuckled – which was something he hadn't done in quite a while. "You should be all right in no time." He reassured her. He extracted his hand from hers. "Eugene is sleeping; do you want me to go get him?" He asked, thinking she'd want to speak to her confidante. He was already on his way to the door when her shriek reached him.

"Don't go!"

Fear had successfully crept into her voice. She sounded like a scared teenager should – he often needed reminding that she wasn't as old as she appeared to be. This side of her was so different from the side he'd gotten to know while guarding her. She'd seemed so fiery – so bitchy, and now she was… young.

"Okay, I won't." He promised. "I'll be here as long as you need me."

"Good." Harry smiled in the darkness – there was the tone feisty Zia used. "Now lie down, you need as much rest as any of us."

Harry nodded, not thinking she couldn't see his gesture. He glanced at the floor – thinking to lie on it. At least a carpet covered it, making it a softer bed. He pulled off his shirt and made to lie on the floor.

"I don't bite, you know, the bed is big enough for both of us." She said sardonically.

"I just don't want to make you uncomfortable." He said, looking away from her sheepishly. He saw her hand lifted under the comforter, and even in the darkness he saw her cheeks burn.

"I'm half-naked aren't I?" She mumbled. "Well, I'm no prude, and common decency is out the window. Get in. I've shared with my cousin numerous times."

Harry noticed her extensive vocabulary when she was in a tired state.

"I… well… if you're sure…" He said uncertainly, sitting down next to her. She nodded, and he lied down. He was lying on his back, though his head angled to look at her. Her eyes were closed, and he watched her for a few seconds.

"I must be after your body – it's the first time I've invited a man into my bed. One that's not my cousin, I mean."

He blushed, thankful that her eyes were closed. "I don't have much of a body, so bad choice on your part." He snickered.

"Nonsense. You have a great body. You keep fit. Face it, Mr Potter, you're incredibly easy on the eyes."

Harry would have choked had he been drinking something at that moment.

"Where's all of this coming from?" His cheeks were still burning.

"I'm just being honest. I know what looks good. Can you honestly say that I am not attractive to you?"

"I… well… that is to say…" He stammered, not used to this kind of bluntness.

"Spit it out, will you?" She asked, irate.

"Yes, all right, I have to admit I do. It's just this attitude of yours that is unexpected."

"It's the way I am. Untactful, blunt, bratty, narcissistic and sometimes downright stubborn. But I recognise these faults."

"But that makes you better. Most run from their faults."

"At least one good thing about me."

"What are you talking about? There are plenty of good things about you!"

"I don't think so." She said, sceptically.

"Why not? You're smart, determined, skilled – and it doesn't hurt that you're beautiful either." It slipped out before he could stop himself. Her eyes flew open.

"You really think all that?"

Harry wanted to laugh at her naiveté. The only people who have told her that she's beautiful were her cousin and her adoptive mother. The chances were she didn't believe them.

"Yes. I don't see why it is so hard to believe." He said.

She looked at him doubtfully and lifted her tiny frame. Her eyes fluttered closed again.

"Thank you for the compliment… where are we?"

"The Burrow… it's a friend of mine's home."

"Burrow… it's sort of ironic, don't you think? Just this morning we saw a rabbit."

"Yeah… I've never thought of it that way." He said through a yawn. He was mildly surprised that she wasn't happier to be out of her prison.

"I'm glad to be out. Eugene told me about everyone pretending I'm dead… He also mentioned that you… cried."

"I won't deny it. You must be getting to me a little. I don't cry often anymore… when did he tell you?"

"When he came back with Ernie. Apparently they couldn't find any clothes for me. One, my size. Two, my taste is hard to figure out." To Harry it didn't seem like it – she seemed to like dark colours to wear. "It explains my current clothing. You were downstairs with the others."

"Oh, right, they didn't tell me that… how about I take you into town tomorrow and you can shop. My treat?"

"Can I borrow your clothes then? For tomorrow's excavation, I mean."

"Sure, but I'm not sure I have anything you'd like. And Eugene probably won't be happy."

"And what exactly does his happiness have to do with my attire?" She demanded.

"Nothing, nothing… he just scares me a little, is all. And he's incredibly protective." The irony amused him – he'd fought an evil wizard, yet he feared her muggle cousin.

"Wouldn't you be? I'm the only family he has."

"I suppose. I never really had any family worth fighting for." H said dully, lifting his eyes to the ceiling.

"Sirius Black?" She asked.

"The one time he needed me, I failed him."

"Harry, the ones that love us never really leave us." She whispered, her tone gentle. She reached out, putting a small hand on his chest. He felt his heart rate heighten… this was bad.

He did notice the usage of his name, though. Even of she'd struck a nerve.

"Sirius told me that once. As did Dumbledore, the headmaster – he'd been my mentor. Yet I failed them both."

Zia'd felt she'd struck a nerve. A frustrated sigh escaped her.

"Did you cast the curses that killed them?"

"No, but I could've stopped it."

"It wasn't in your hands to decide their fate. I'm sorry, but you are not a god."

"I never said I was a god, but I could've done something."

"Even if you did do something, they would've died anyways. Death is a sneaky character, and each of us has a time in which we die. Say Sirius didn't die the way he did, I don't know how he died, but hypothetically, he could've been at home, drinking tea and choked on his tea, or drowned himself in it. See?"

Harry was very much aware of her hand still on his chest. His very bare chest. To distract himself he turned on his side to face her.

"I understand what you mean, but I'd been right there, both times, and I didn't do anything! Maybe you are right. When it's our time, it's our time, now matter how."

She smiled lazily.

"Never argue with a woman, Mr Potter, chances are you'll lose."

He noted the usage of his surname again. What had happened to Harry? And why in the name of Merlin was he so hot?

When he could see her eyelashes it hit him, their position was exceptionally intimate. They were inches away from one another. He moved back a bit, only to nearly meet the floor. It seemed out of reflex that her hand reached out and prevented him from falling.

"Now I'm Mr Potter again?" He mocked her.

"All I know is that I'm supposedly dead and you sniffled. And now we're in a place called the Burrow. I haven't been informed of the plan or any aliases we might have. Thus, I will keep referring to you as Mr Potter, unless I have to play the part of your sister or something similar."

"Actually you're playing the part of my girlfriend, but that is beside the point."

He explained the entire situation to her, forgetting to mention the occupation he and Draco shared.

Once he was finished she remained stationary for a moment. Harry feared a heart-attack.

"Zia?"

She burst out in silent laughter.

"I find it awfully sad that my first boyfriend has to pretend to like me."

"Who says I'm pretending?" He asked quietly, hoping she didn't hear him and cursing his tongue. She froze, her laughter gone. Her hand slipped off his chest and she turned around.

"Good night, Mr Potter."

Harry was confused.

"Wait, why are you so guarded? All I said was that I was not faking feelings. I don't know much about girls, but I'm pretty sure most would be happy on hearing those words, or am I deluded?"

She exhaled. "You hardly know me, how can you say you like me?"

"Yes, that was what I said. Is it so hard to believe?"

"Put yourself in my shoes. You're the first male humanoid specimen to show interest. I have never been faced with this. Ernie's told me about relationships, but I've never been in one. I'm pretty much screwed in that area."

"Honestly? I'm more tactless than you are. If you don't believe me, ask the people around here tomorrow." Harry shivered at the memory of his disastrous date with Cho.

"Aren't we cursed?" She said. Harry was certain sarcasm was dripping down her light pink lips in liquid form as she said it.

"Perhaps," he said reasonably, "but you could give the relationship a chance."

"Not… not now. I'm... I'm most likely to get myself killed in this mission – I want justice, Harry."

"I understand that, but you're going to need help, aren't you? You can't do it alone, no matter how good you are. Believe me I learned the hard way."

"I wasn't planning on doing it alone. First I want a wand, I can't keep magic inside me forever. I think I'll go insane."

"All right, then, Ollivander's first thing tomorrow?"

"She opened her eyes and stared at him blankly in the semi-darkness. "Is that a pet shop?"

Harry wanted to laugh.

"Oh, we really need to explain things. No, Ollivander's is a wand shop in Diagon Alley. You do know what Diagon Alley is, don't you?"

"An alley that is… diagonal?" She guessed. Harry sniggered. "Don't laugh! It's not funny!"

"Oh, it is." He said, highly amused.

He launched into an explanation of Diagon Alley. He saw her expression change every few minutes and, for him, it was one of the most precious things on earth.

"So Ollivander's is not a pet shop? Damn."

"Why, do you want a pet?"

"No. I just want to see a magical pet shop."

"Fine, we'll go to Eyelops Owl Emporium after Ollivander's, happy?"

"Yes. Now go to sleep you, will you? I don't want my cousin to think I'm keeping you up."

"Fine, but, just so you know, you're getting up when I say tomorrow."

"Don't you think I've taken enough orders from a man? I'm going to become a feminist."

"All right! How about this, at least wait an acceptable amount of time before you wake me up in the morning?" He sounded overly formal in his own ears.

"It depends on the payment."

"How about any pet?"

"That's sweet, but where I, I mean we are going, pets will be a nuisance."

"What did you have in mind then?"

She blushed and ruffled his hair playfully. "Goodnight, Harry."

Harry was supremely jumbled. "Night, Zia."

. . .

Zia jerked awake, the whole bed shook at her violent jerk. She glanced worriedly at her companion, hoping she hadn't awakened him. She found him staring at her, his wand pointed at her. He'd reflexively grabbed the first weapon nearby, in this situation it had been his wand. He lowered his wand and sat up. He took in her hair that was plastered to her face with sweat. Her chest was moving up and down rapidly, alerting to him to any kind of distress.

"Zia? You okay?"

"Nightmare." She explained, wiping the sweat away. Harry's eyes widened a bit. The duvet had slipped off her body, revealing the majority of her body. She wore what was obviously a loaned oversized shirt (presumably Mrs Weasley's). She really had no clothes. It reminded him of his own need for clothes.

His eyes fell on a duffel bag at the foot of the bed. Ah, Draco.

"I thought you didn't practice magic anymore?" She asked curiously.

"I don't. Reflex." He set his wand down again. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." She nodded. "I haven't had that one before, though."  
>"What was it about?"<p>

"A saw being driven through my face. Murder."

"No on here owns a saw. Are your nightmares always like this?"

She nodded. "They normally concern me dying in various ways. This was just new… usually it's a knife or a gun…" She was shaking like a leaf. Harry didn't buy her act – these dreams affected her more than she led on.

Without thought, Harry drew her into his arms. "No on can hurt you here." He promised her.

"Um… why are you hugging me?"

"Sorry." He let go of her quickly. "You just looked like you needed a hug. You know, in your mood…"

_Or was it me? I've been starved of human affection for two years!_

"I was not in a mood! Frightened and scared are emotions, not a mood!" She leaned in to him, her eyes a forbidding dare.

"Being emotional can be considered a mood." He countered playfully, adding a smirk for effect.

"Are you certain you want to do this again? Last time we argued, your hair had been brutally attacked! And you loved every second of it!"

He turned a light shade of pink.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said, defiantly, turning to climb off the bed. Her hand snaked into his hair, massaging his scalp until he relaxed into her hold. His head was situated on her collar-bone. His hair tickled her chin.

"That is not fair." Harry said. She retracted her hand; a winning smile crossed her features.

"Don't argue with me, I always win."

He glanced up at her, finding her staring back at him. She pushed him off her.

"No necessarily, you're bound to lose sometime." Harry was more than a little embarrassed at the amount of control she seemed to have over him. It had happened twice now.

"I _never_ lose." She said. "If I want a fluffy vampiric unicorn, I'll somehow get it."

"In reality you could get one of those. If you don't mind living a cursed life… and being a vampire."

"Immortality is overrated." She mused, settling down against the headboard again. She stared at the ceiling absently. Her dreams bothered her. Sometimes she wondered if they were omens, sent to warn her.

What bothered her even more, however, was that her executioner had not been wearing his usual black mask. No, this time it had been the blonde Malfoy that drove the saw through her head.

"Yes, it is. But you'd be surprised at the lengths some people go to obtain it. So, why is the ceiling so interesting?"

"It's not. I'm thinking. I suggest you flee."

"You know I am not afraid of you, right?"

"I've noticed." She drawled.

"Well, I believe we had plans today?"

"We do. Now, may I please borrow some of your clothes? Wearing my knickers and a shirt I don't recognise here…"

"Right… give me a second to get my things." He moved over to the duffel bag.

"Yes, well, unless you want me in underwear – I _did _invite you into my bed, after all."

"I might like you this way, but I don't think everyone else would approve."

She burst out in laughter. "Blunt, are we?"

He winked at her. "Only when you're around."

"You know why we can't be together." She said pointedly, the flirty tone now gone. Harry put some clothes on the edge of the bed before sitting down next to her. She uncomfortably gathered the blankets around her body. She was very aware of how vulnerable she must look. He leaned towards her, his hand on her other side.

"Why not?" He asked. She shifted awkwardly under his gaze.

"I don't have time for romance. Avenging Vicky's death is most likely to be a suicide mission."

"I just think you're afraid of your emotions."

"I'm seventeen remember?" She said sadly. "What do I know?"

"I used that excuse once – you're lying to yourself."

"I've never had a boyfriend before; I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."

"So, you're saying that you do like me?" Harry asked, smugly.

"I did not say that!"

He lifted himself and moved his hands forward, creeping over her.

"You implied it."

"I did no such thing! All I'm saying is that I don't know what to feel!"

His body was now directly over hers. "Why so defensive? You do this to me all the time."

She met his eyes. "I can take what I dish out."

His head lowered an inch. His tone was lower now.

"I don't think you can."

"Oh, I can't? Well, Mr Potter, get ready to eat your words." She sat up on her elbows, bringing her face impassively closer to his. She was nervous – she'd never kissed anyone before. And if this was going to be it…

Their lips were millimetres apart when the door burst open. Zia jumped, knocking her head against Harry's. She sent a glare (worthy of Snape , Harry reckoned) towards Eugene, who was asking about how she'd… slept…

"Eugene, you moron! Will you ever learn to knock? I could've been having sex right now!"

. . .

Downstairs everyone heard Zia's outburst. Numerous heads were turned towards the stairs from where the screams had come. Draco had been sitting silently the whole morning, only speaking when spoken to. Now, however, he burst out in laughter.

"Is she always this blunt?" Ginny asked.

. . .

**A/N" Please review!**


	10. Chapter 9: The diagonal street

**A/N: So, after a few PMs, I decided to type this up and update. Thanks for everyone that pestered me! This one was all me again.**

**Thanks to TheFremioneGirl, Nitrogirl, AnimationNut, Muentiger, AnAddictedReader, Dark Lord Viper and serpentine097 for reviewing.**

**This is for serpentine097, who has reviewed with the greatest compliment, thank you! I do hope you review again. I bow down, sir, and I aim to please.**

**Chapter 9: The Diagonal Alley**

The Weasleys (and co.) stared at Draco.

"What's so funny?" Ginny asked. Draco stopped laughing in an instant.

"You have no idea how weird that girl is." He said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, eyeing Draco carefully.

"Zia is just incredibly odd. She thrives on secrecy and has a violent side." He smirked. "But she's also incredibly naïve…."

"Oh, gosh, Zia, since when are you so vulgar?" Eugene asked, his tone disgusted.

"Oh, I learnt from you, of course." She smiled sweetly at her cousin as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked away briefly to the crowd of people in the house before looking at Eugene again, only to nearly lose her balance as she looked at the crowd of people.

"Uh… Morning, everyone." She laughed nervously. Harry appeared behind her.

"Hey, all. So… um, this is Zia." He put a careful hand on the small of her back. "Zia this is… everyone. You know Ma… Draco, and that's Ron," he pointed to said red-head, who extended a hand to Zia.

"Morning, Ron." Zia smiled.

"Hey, Zia. Would you be insulted if I asked how old you were?" He asked, surprising Zia with his easy acceptance.

"No, I'm seventeen. Eighteen next month." She smiled.

"And that's Hermione." Harry went on, pointing to the woman at Ron's side. She smiled a kind smile, and Zia thought that she must've just gotten up, because her hair was wild, at attention. Zia shook her hand gladly, hoping she'd make friends with these people.

"And you know Mrs Weasley." Harry's tone had lightened.

"Yes, I do!" She said excitedly. She rushed to the Weasley mother and hugged her tightly. "Thank you so, so much, ma'am, for fixing me up and… and everything!"

"My… you're welcome, dearie, I take it you're feeling better?" Mrs Weasley asked, smiling fondly .

"Yes… thank you!"

From across the table Eugene stared. He'd never seen Zia so excited.

"Who is that?" He asked Harry.

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned.

"That. Zia Stine is no longer to be found. I've never seen her willingly get to know others." Eugene chuckled as Zia moved to Ginny. Ginny looked taken aback by Zia's approaches.

"I'm sorry we took over your room." Zia said after greeting Ginny.

"Not a problem at all, you were hurt… what happened?" Ginny asked.

"I'm not entirely sure. I remember a mask and the next Harry's looking at me." She shrugged. "But where did you sleep? Did you sleep okay?"

"Zia, I slept fine, I haven't slept in my room in a year." Ginny tried to calm her. Zia seemed giddy, her eyes kept flitting over the curious horde. "So, you're dating Harry?"

Zia's eyes flashed back to Ginny.

"What? Harry? Oh, yes." She shook her head. "Who are these people?" She whispered.

"These are Harry's friends and classmates from Hogwarts."

Ernie had shared tales of Hogwarts with her. She'd always been interested in the school. Ernie was probably still asleep.

"Oh… and you are?"

"I just told you my name." Ginny said uncertainly, wondering if she was quite all right.

"Yes, I know, but I was talking about how you know Harry." Zia explained quickly.

"His best friend is my brother."

"You're Draco's brother?" Zia asked, not making the connection. Ginny spluttered.

"Harry and Malfoy are best friends?" She asked, glancing at Draco, who had joined in on Harry and Eugene's discussion.

"I'm guessing you're not? I didn't see it, so I don't feel as stupid. Is Ron your brother, then?" Zia asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes, he and Harry were best friends at school." Ginny answered, eyeing Harry. Something had changed if his once enemy was now his best friend. And where did it leave Ron? Outside and alone? Well, he did have Hermione…

"Oh…" Was all Zia could say.

"And I had a brief relationship with Harry when he was sixteen." She went on. "You really are lucky to have him, you know."

Zia beamed. "I know." Her glance travelled across the room, meeting Harry's. He winked at her, a cocky smile on his lips. She stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

Eugene caught this, and continued to stare. Who was this girl, or was this what freedom did?

"Hello, I'm Dean." A dark-skinned man neared the two women. "Dean Thomas."

"Zia Stine, though I think you knew that." She reached out a small hand and smiled. "You must be Ginny's boyfriend, then?"

"How'd you…" He started.

"Oh, I pick up on these things." Zia grinned, "Same with those two, though I don't think they want to make it official yet." Zia looked pointedly at Seamus and Parvati. "Same with Ron and Hermione." Zia had picked up on small smiles, tiny gestures the couples shared. It wasn't obvious and she only picked up on it because she had no experience at all.

"Really?" Dean was dumbstruck. Not about Hermione and Ron, everyone had known about that, but Seamus and Parvati, though, was a surprise.

"See? I told you!" Ginny said, pleased with herself.

"Rub it in, love, you'll get nowhere." Dean smirked. The pair turned back to Zia, but she was gone.

"Where'd she go?"

Zia crept up on Harry, grabbing his hand, making him jump.

"Come on, you promised!" She pouted. Eugene laughed, rather enjoying this side of her.

"Going to the wizard street?" He guessed. Harry nodded, joining in on the laughter.

"Yes, well, she's definitely excited." Draco commented. "Wait, you're not leaving me, are you?"

"Not alone, no." Harry answered. "Eugene's here too. You can keep each other company."

The bodyguard and assassin looked at one another. They were sizing each other up, wondering how it would be to spend the day with the other. The idea sort of terrified Eugene. Draco was, after all, one of the best assassins out there, but without Harry's teamwork, he was nothing.

Draco was equally terrified. He didn't know this man, but he was strong, even for non-magic folk. Worse, he was protective. Of Zia, yes, but he'd made it clear if either of them put a toe out of line they would be done for. Then again, without Zia there, he had no reason to be protective.

"Fine." They grumbled in unison.

"Come on, Harry!" Zia pulled his arm excitedly. "We should go!"

"Wait, not like that!" Eugene barked, gripping her shoulders and looking her up and down. "What are you wearing?"

"Harry's clothes. Mine was covered in blood, remember?" She said nonchalantly.

"Thank you, by the way, Draco." Harry said off-sidedly. Draco nodded, knowing he was referring to the clothes.

"Bring me back something sweet." He winked at Harry. Zia slapped him over the head.

"He's mine!" She said, pulling him out the door.

"Yes, Zia, he's yours!" Draco agreed. "And don't lose him!"

"And look after her, Harry!" Eugene called. The pair turned to face the room of spectators. All of them were staring. Mostly at Draco, the junior Death Eater once upon a time.

"I like her." Hermione said in an attempt to break the tension.

"Me too, though she's awfully giddy." Ginny added.

"Not normally, my cousin is a mess most days. But today's a good day, she won't attack anyone." Eugene smiled. "Though I warn you, don't anger her if you value your life. Just ask Draco."

Draco knew this was time to lie, and to break the tension he had to tell an anecdote. He was never good at that.

"Yes, I'll never forget the day she threw a cat at me." He started. "We were at her and Eugene's place for dinner. She'd gone through all the trouble of making Harry's favourite, and I made the mistake of asking what the food was, I was having a difficult time identifying it. She screamed and threw the cat at me."

"And he gave the poor cat a heart attack." Eugene went on. "It died a week later."

"It was not me!" Draco protested. "I…"

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Ron interjected. "Why are you with Harry?"

Draco sighed. Now or never. "When Harry hid, so did I. I think we all know of the burden my family name is."

"You never seemed to mind." Hermione piped up.

"I know, and I'm sorry for what I'd done to you all during school, I won't even try to justify it, but I am sorry."

"He wasn't really all that bad guys." Luna said, appearing behind Draco.

"Hey, Luna. Haven't seen in you in years." He joked, hugging her briefly, much to the surprise of everyone.

"He did sneak food to me when they had me captive. And he kept me company, so I don't think Draco is all that bad." She went on.

"Thanks, Luna."

_The first time Draco helped Luna was a day after they brought her into the manor. Narcissa had just confirmed that Luna Lovegood was in the cellar. As brainwashed as Draco had been, he didn't like the idea. Nor did his mother, though she never showed it. It would cost her her life. Draco had been in his room, and after having received the news he called on of the few remaining house elves they'd had. The elf took him down, showing him the blonde girl that was lying in a corner. He ordered the elf to get the needed potions before kneeling down next to her._

"_Lovegood?"_

_She rolled around. Paler than she normally was, her one eye swollen and yellow pus oozed from it. _

"_Draco?" She'd never bothered with last names._

_He'd nursed the potions into her, feeding her if necessary. A week later she was much better._

"_Why'd you help me?" Luna asked._

"_Because you don't deserve this." He'd answered._

"_None of us do." She pointed out._

"_Which is why I'm not allowing any of you to starve down here." He said in finality. Luna accepted it with a satisfied nod._

_As time wore on, they got used to each other's company. That was until Harry broke Luna and the others out._

Draco nearly smiled at the memory. Too much had happened to pick up what they had, if they even had anything.

"Everyone deserves a second chance." Draco said softly. "And if not for me, do it for Harry."

Ron smiled. Draco played the 'do it for Harry' card. No way he was going to stand back.

"Sure, Malfoy. But you don't have to ask what'll happen if you double cross him." Ron accepted Draco's stretched out hand.

"Always the Gryffindor, eh, Weasley?" Draco drawled. "But yes, and you have no idea what'll happen to you if you try to teach me a lesson."

"Still meddling with the Dark Arts?"

"No, they seem sort of… meek, now." Draco teased.

"Draco, shut the hell up." Eugene snarled.

. . .

Harry and Zia arrived in Diagon Alley with a loud _pop_. Zia doubled up, her insides similar to the Atlantic ocean midst a storm.

"What the heck was that?" She demanded, clutching her stomach.

"Apparition, we did it yesterday too. After you, uh, you know, passed out." He shifted his balance from one foot to the other.

"Couldn't you hit me over the head with that stick of yours and make me sleep?" She asked, pointing to his wand.

"I could, but I won't. I haven't done magic in ages." He shrugged. "Besides Apparating, that is."

"Why did you stop doing magic?"

"Didn't I already tell you?" He asked as they stepped onto the busy street.

"No. Or you did, I can't remember. Tell me anyways." She hooked her hand through his arm.

"It's a long story. How about I tell you afterwards?" He suggested.

"All right.. but you're not getting out of it."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He led her to Ollivander's. The little bell rang eerily, and the old man stepped out of the dusty darkness. Harry was quite surprised that he still made wands, seeing as he nearly lost his life over it.

"Mr Potter, how wonderful to see you." The old wandmaker wheezed. "And you, dear lady… Miss Stine, if I'm not mistaken."

Zia stared. "How'd you know my name?"

"Your mother was legendary, dear girl. Now, let's see…" Mr Ollivander started to run his hands over several boxes, stopping at one. "Hmm… try this." He took the wand out and placed it in her hand. She threw it across the room quickly, as if it had bitten her. Harry laughed, he'd smashed a vase, but she was playing netball. Mr Ollivander laughed too.

''Try this one.'' He handed her another, but soon snatched it back. It went on for an hour. Then he did the same thing he'd done with Harry.

''I wonder...'' He picked up a ratty box. Taking the wand out gently, he handed it to her. Zia knew it was it. This was the wand. Her wand.

''Miss Stine... What are you going to do?'' Ollivander asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Zia's brow scrunched up. ''I'm getting justice.'' She declared. ''For all those my father murdered.''

Harry shifted umcomfortably. He was one of the murderers she so openly despised.

''You wand warns of power, but speaks of greatness. I advise caution.'' Ollivander had never lost the eerie factor. ''Fir, 13 inches, nice and springy, good for defensive spells... Thestral core.''

''Wasn't the Elder Wand the only wand with this core?'' She asked, suprising Harry. He hadn't known she knew that. Then again, Ernie had been her tutor. Maybe he'd simply forgotten (or purposely left it out) to tell her about the great wizard war. If he had, she'd have known who Harry Potter was.

''It was, Miss Stine, that wand is one of the first I made. I'm quite proud I'd achieved it.'' The old man sounded smug.

''Sir, you, mentioned my mother.'' She set the wand down. ''Can you tell me about her?''

Ollivander paled. ''We don't talk about her. She disgraces the name of wizards and witches everywhere.''

''Please?''

He sighed. ''You'll regret it.''

"I don't care, I want to know." She remained steadfast.

"Your mother is someone who tortured many. Mr Potter too." Ollivander pointed to Harry. More specifically, to Harry's hand.

For the first time in years, the words _I must not tell lies _tingled on the back of Harry's hand.

**A/N: Please review! And yes, I am evil for leaving you with a cliffe. Though it's not much of a cliffe, seeing as my last line gave one very large hint as to who Zia's mother is. Any guesses? Tell me in a review!**


	11. Chapter 10: Mistress

**A/N: It's been a while, I know, but you love me anyways. I gave you all a bit of a scare last chapter, you'll be happy to read this, then. Quick note: Batsy wrote the first part of this with me, the rest is all me.**

**Thanks to Simply Paranoia, TheFremioneGirl, Batmarcus, Sisi, espe9, Nitrogirl, Darth Kobra, AnAddictedReader and Annabelle4.0 for reviewing.**

**Chapter 10: Mistress**

"Umbridge?" Harry asked, shivering at the thought. Ollivander started – which was odd, that man couldn't possibly be startled… could he?

Umbridge certainly disgraced the name of wizardry, but from what Harry'd gathered, the toad had been thrown into Azkaban and the key thrown away.

He was certain there were other witches that smeared wizards everywhere… the question was: who?

''Are you quite sure she was the only one that tortured you?'' The aging man asked, raising a grey eyebrow, almost tauntingly, playfully. Apparently he couldn't be startled for too long either. Harry glanced to his hand, remembering a woman who'd grabbed his palm in an attempt to read it. Perhaps that was why the scars on the back of his hand had tingled.

"Well, she's the only who truly tortured me. I suppose you could count Trelawney...''Harry hesitated, thinking Umbridge more likely for Zia's maternal party. They both tended to be slightly violent and bias. But there was no _way_ Umridge could've helped in the making of Zia! Zia was just too beautiful to be possibly related to her, and Zia had a bit of kindness that Umbidge never possessed.

''That's it.'' Ollivander said triumphantly, raising a withered hand, his second finger in the air. "She disgraces the name of wizardry too – having false prophecies and such. Of course, there _are_ those that think highly of her." Ollivander didn't seem to think highly of her, but he tried to hide it from Zia. The young girl unnerved him – and he was normally the one doing the unnerving. Her eyes were dark, as if they were permanently thrown into shadows, never knowing the sun or daylight. Then again, there could be no shadow without a day, or sun, or light.

Harry spluttered, unbelieving. ''What? Trelawney? Her mother is Trelawney?" It wasn't possible! Was it?

''Who is Trelawney?'' Zia asked, her brown-green eyes wide, flicking between Harry and Ollivander.

"She is my former Divination teacher.'' Harry explained, then added in a whisper, ''Also the reason my life was hell..." He remembered how frequently he'd died in her class, whether murdered with an axe or choking on a marshmallow. Or beheaded by said marshmallow.

Zia stared. She took her new wand and walked out in a daze, her eyes not registering anything. Harry paid for the wand and followed her.

"Are you all right?" He asked when he caught up to her, grabbing onto her arm.

''Fine.'' She smiled tightly, her lips becoming white as she stopped, looking at his hand on her arm. She knew she'd practically slept in his arms, but that didn't mean familiarity was in order.

"Come on, I know your lying. What's wrong?'' He said calmly, removing his hand at the look she was giving it. She might curse it off now that she had a wand.

''Is she alive?'' Zia asked, her eyes moving to his.

"Trelawney? I think so. She was last time I saw her. Why?" He asked, returning her gaze.

''He lied to me.'' She said softly, looking away from him, her eyes clouded immediately, she strode away from him. He hurried after her.

"I'm sorry. If I had known, I would have told you." He said sincerely, catching up to her.

''My father lied to me... Why am I surprised?'' She laughed bitterly, her voice laced with poison, shaking her head as if in denial. ''I wonder if she knows about me.'' She added in a whisper. Harry heard it, and a familiar pang hit Harry's chest. He missed his parents and his godfather, and Remus. He sometimes wished he had someone to talk to. In hindsight, he did have Draco to talk to. But Draco was as sensitive as a cactus or hot oil.

"Well, I'm not sure... there is magic that can erase memories. I almost lost my memory once… So, who knows? She's a bit scatterbrained, so it couldn't have been all that hard." He immediately regretted his words, because Zia slammed him into the nearest wall, her new wand at his throat.

"Don't you dare say a word against her!" She threatened him. "And don't underestimate me with this new stick – Ernie did let me borrow his, after all."

Harry took a deep breath, knowing she wasn't just kidding. He had to get her new fir and thestral wand away from his face. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her waist, catching her off guard entirely. He smirked, taking a page from Draco's book.

"Now, Zia, I can respect your wishes, but don't you ever threaten me with magic – got it?" He breathed, his breath playing across her lips. She smirked in return, and something cold hit his stomach. She'd brought a gun with her, and the mouth was now trained on his gut. He wondered where she got it.

"How about I threaten you with something non-magic then?" She teased, not lowering the wand or the firearm. It was hidden from the view of the public eyes. All they would see was a young couple, probably on the point of snogging one another silly.

"Please – you don't have the guts or the motives. Why would you kill me?" He asked, relaxing. He still had his arms around her waist. He could kill her, it would only be easy. He'd done it before, and he could do it again. He'd done it facing people who fought back and who begged for their lives.

Only she wasn't fighting his attempts to kill her, she was being defensive on her mother. And, he hated to admit it to himself, he could understand it. He knew how defensive he was of his own father, seeing as he blew his Aunt Marge up back in third year, and the way he and Snape had bumped heads over it, more than once.

She also wasn't begging him to kill her. So that left Harry dumbstruck and uncertain.

She clicked the gun and pressed it tighter.

"You sure?" She asked, her face mere inches from his. He was unable to say a word. A shiver ran through his body. But not one of fear – one of excitement. This enthralled him. It was so intoxicating. His body was excited by the forbidden nature of what they could do right there, not even worrying about the public's eyes.

Zia saw the look on his face and drew back, satisfied.

He drew her back, pressing their bodies together.

"I'm sure." He sneered, taking the gun from her. "Shall we continue?" His one hand lingered on her waist. "I'm certain you don't want to live in my clothes."

She nodded, slapping his hand away. "Don't you dare, Mr. Potter, just because I slept in your arms doesn't mean we really are that familiar."

The two were separated, and Harry knew the look. It was a determined look - one that clearly stated she was not backing down. He had to calm himself down first before they could go on.

She'd returned, the brooder was back and the giddy Zia was gone. As much as it made him a horrible person, he preferred this side. She was easier to talk to, easier to understand and more predictable than a happy Zia. Even if this Zia was unpredictable, he knew to expect the unexpected.

They continued in silence. Harry took her to Madam Malkin's to get some robes. They also visited the bookstore, where Zia recognized some of the books. He bought some magical history and fantasy tales books. Cleverly avoiding books that had himself in it. He managed to avoid the people he knew.

Lastly they ventured into muggle London – knowing the danger, though Zia really did need clothes.

They were done quickly, as Zia had a simple style of clothes. Jeans and T-shirts with the odd dress thrown in for good measure. She remained painfully silent, her face and impassive mask. He took her back to the Burrow, where she didn't speak to anyone, she didn't even go inside. Harry left her on a swing outside, not knowing what to say.

. . .

Zia hated him. David Stine had lied to her, time and time again, so why was she surprised that she'd been lied to again?

Her whole life she'd been made to believe her mother was either dead or had abandoned her! Now she learned her mother was a scar on the face of the wizarding world. She didn't how she was supposed to feel. Angry? Yes. Betrayed? Yes. Surprised? Yes! But why? She should've seen it coming! Her father was a prime liar, after all.

She's alive, and that was all that should matter. She would like to meet this Trelawney person one day. Perhaps she'd like her. But not now. She was too used to a nanny and a tutor. No loving parent, no loving gestures from said parents.

She missed her nanny. So much. She wasn't a person for embracing others, but she'd been the exception.

"_Zia? Darling, where are you?" Vicky called from the kitchen, clapping her hands together. A puff of flour filled the air. Zia poked her head in through the door._

"_You called, Vicky?" Zia grinned. "Ernie just got here – he promised me that I could use his wand again today." She was excited, two books clutched to her chest_

"_Yes, dearie, here." She pushed a tin of cookies towards her ward. "They're that nutty sort you like so much."_

_Zia grinned, helping herself to some cookies._

"_Just take the tin, love, there are more in the oven. And I'm sure Ernie would like some too." Vicky smiled fondly as Zia's cheeks grew a dashing scarlet._

"_Thank you, mother." Zia pressed a kiss to her nanny's cheek. Vicky chuckled._

"_Now, shoo! Don't keep him waiting!"_

_Zia danced out with the tin of cookies and the books, stretching herself._

_Vicky just went on making cookies, humming some long-forgotten tune to herself._

Zia smiled at the memory. Vicky always made cookies. The house permanently smelled like baked goods. Zia didn't have a sweet tooth, but she still appreciated it.

"Procrastinating?"

She jumped at the voice behind her.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, couldn't you have pretended to clear your throat?" She swore, willing her heart rate down.

"I apologize, madam," Draco said, sitting down on the swing near hers, "Potter told me."

"Did he now?" She asked in mock awe. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Listen, Trelawney is not that bad," He said earnestly, "I think you'd like her."

"You don't even know me, Malfoy." She scoffed.

"I know enough." He said firmly. "I'm sorry about your father, Stine, if I'd known; I would never have become an employee."

Draco was lying. He knew it, and he knew Zia could sense it, but he didn't say anymore. After all, he was still on David Stine's payroll.

"Enlighten me about your story, Malfoy?" She wasn't asking, she was telling him. He sighed, quite dramatically, and nodded.

"Potter is the golden boy, that you should know." He started. "A few years ago, the wizarding world was run by the Dark Lord. Voldemort, and I can only say the name because Potter forced it into me."

She frowned, confused.

"You mean the Wizarding war where Harry's parents died?" She asked. Draco nodded, stumped. "I know all about that. Ernie was part of the rebels, after all, he hid out at Stine Manor while it all went down." She shrugged.

"So you knew who Harry was when you met him?" Draco asked in disbelief, not noting his change to 'Harry'.

"No, there is the possibility of being more than one Potter out there, you know," She said matter-of-factly, "but after today I'm certain of it. He kept hiding from the public eye." Her hand went through her shaggy hair, getting stuck at the bottom. She wrestled with her hair, annoyed, before Draco reached forward and disentangled her hand from her hair.

"That's because after the war he took his wand and the Elder wand and just took off." Draco said loudly. "He felt betrayed by the wizarding world, and to think, he took me in, I was once his arch-rival!"

"And now you're his best friend." She added. Draco started.

"No, no, no, Potter and I function on mutual understanding. I still think he's a git." Draco said quickly, not wanting to think what his life would be like if he decided to be the golden boy's best friend.

Zia smirked at him, as if reading his thoughts. His life would probably be the same, wouldn't it?

"You were saying about your story?" She chose to skip the previous subject and return to the previous one. He was secretly grateful for this.

"At the tender age of sixteen, I was forced into the Death Eaters. I wasn't asked, I was forced. I was to be an example of what happened when someone defied him, or failed him – my father had failed him twice at that stage." Draco explained, not knowing, nor caring, why he was opening up to her. "I was destined to die at the end of that year."

She didn't say anything. Death, to her, was something that stopped the immortality all humans were destined to get one day. Their immortal souls are freed from bodily confinement, and they were free.

That was what death was to Zia: freedom.

"And I would've died too, were it not for my godfather." He went on when she didn't say anything.

"And your parents?" She asked hesitantly, not knowing enough of this man to judge when he was angry. Harry wore his emotions on his face, where Draco had a carefully structured mask. He looked at her sharply, trying to see if she was prying. All he saw was curiosity.

"I left. My father was the reason I got this." He pulled his sleeve up to show her the faded Dark Mark. "My father willingly gave up his only son to make his own name better."

"Peas in a pod, we are." She said cynically, looking at the setting sun, the sun a vivid red. Draco smiled a real smile, shaking his head in silent mirth.

"You continue to baffle me, Zia."

"Miss Stine." She corrected him.

"I thought we'd moved past that point?" He joked, wiping a hand through his light hair.

"We haven't." She winked at him. He shook his head again, standing up. He held his hand out to her. She looked at it as though it might bite her. When he didn't take it away, she took it. He pulled her to her feet.

"It's dinnertime, Zia, and Eugene's been worried."

The pair walked back to the Burrow, unsure of what to say. Her hand immediately left his, and he noticed it. He liked Zia; she was a fascinating character, if truth be told. But she was Potter's. The two of them were slowly starting to care, and the tension between them was hard to ignore.

_And,_ he thought, _I do not want to wake up having a gun pointed at my face._

They entered the Burrow to silence. Harry must've just said something shocking, because all eyes were trained on him.

Harry was well aware of this. He'd just been questioned about why he'd left the wizarding world, and he'd told them why. He'd been betrayed by magic, by the wizarding world choosing when he was good enough for them. He grew weary of always having to be the good guy.

"I don't do magic, it's as simple as that." He said after a few seconds, noticing his supposed girlfriend enter the room. He was begging her to release him.

"Harry?" She complied to his wish. She made a small notion with her head, meaning for it to be interpreted as 'let's go talk outside'.

He nodded, excusing himself and following her. Draco was left alone with the Weasleys (and Dean), and it unnerved him. He scratched his neck uncomfortably.

"Look, it's a creepy doll!" He pointed to a couch pillow. When they were all looking away, he dashed outside, running pell-mell into Eugene. He grinned guiltily before slinking away from him too.

Outside Harry and Zia stood, looking at each other in an awkward silence.

"So…" She started, having no idea what to say.

"Indeed." Harry said, his hands behind his back as he danced on the balls of his feet.

"So, we're talking." She went on.

"It seems so." He started laughing. She couldn't help but join in. "Thank you, Zia, for saving me in there. I didn't want to go into an explanation of what I do now."

"Right, that would lead to questions, and you'd feel compelled to answer them truthfully."

"You really are a master of words." He said, relaying one of the few compliments he felt able to give.

"Mistress, sir." She bowed elegantly. He drew her into an embrace as Ginny peered out the door to look at them.

"No worries, just remember that you're supposed to be my mistress."

. . .

**A/N: Well, that was a weird ending for a chapter, even for me. Ah well, review, me hearties! (I've had an overdose of Jack Sparrow, okay?)**


	12. Chapter 11: Infiltration

**A/N: You know that awkard moment when you're like "I'm gonna update right now, the chapter's finished!" and then "Where the heck is that chapter?" Yes? Well, that's what happened to me recently. A few months ago, so I had to rewrite it, meanwhile my final exams had to be written and fanfiction had to take a backseat. This one was just me, though Batmarcus did help with the one I'd lost. The cool thing: I am now officialy done with school.**

**Thanks to jen008, hi.1.1.1, Darth Kobra, Nitrogirl, Guest, Batmarcus, AnimationNut, OoOXylionOoO, Annabelle4.0 and Addictive Label. Sisi! Where are you? *Goes to cry in a corner***

**Chapter 11: Infiltration**

Zia was the first to wake. She squirmed in Harry's hold, attempting to get out of it, as it was a bit hot. Comfortable – more than she cared to admit – it was just inconceivably hot, and it wasn't just because of his looks. Harry shifted, making Zia jump and pull her wand on him.

He stared at her through groggy eyes.

"Bloody hell, Zia, point that thing elsewhere, last time I did that someone's eyebrows caught fire." He said, shoving her hand away from him. She put it down slowly, not taking her eyes off him.

She had to admit to herself that Harry Potter was very easy on the eyes. His body wasn't incredibly muscled, but it was all right from what she guessed was training to be a bodyguard, and Quidditch in his younger days. Yes, Zia Stine knew a lot about him, but only because Ernie'd never shut up about him.

"Zia, you're staring." Harry said lazily, though she saw a blush creep up his cheeks. She grinned at him, launching herself off the bed in one very acrobatic move. Harry looked impressed and tried to mimic her move, but failed as he slipped off the bed, knocking his head on the base.

"Smooth, Potter," She sneered at him. He grinned back at her.

"I know how to work a gun flawlessly, Miss Stine," He pulled her foot from under her, making sure to cushion her fall with his body. His hands automatically curled around her waist. She rested her hands on his chest.

"I have many other things I can work flawlessly." She wiggled her eyebrows, causing him to burst out in guffaws. She got off him, Harry reluctantly letting her go. "Come on, Potter, we have a mission."

He heaved himself from the floor, his long limbs struggling against gravity. He rushed to his bag, extracting a pair of jeans and his large coat, which contained the majority of his firearms.

After a quick shower, he found Malfoy and Eugene already dressed and waiting. It was early, the Weasleys hadn't risen from their various slumbers yet.

Eugene whistled a few minutes later. Harry glanced up, finding Zia on the stairs. She wore a pair of tight black jeans, and a sinfully tight T-shirt, her ebony hair tied into a taut ponytail. The clothes fit snugly and emphasized her best assets, making Harry's eyes unable to look elsewhere.

Malfoy noticed, because he gave Harry a sharp jab in the ribs with his elbow. Harry looked away quickly.

Zia grinned at them, twirling her wand lazily in one hand, a black gun in the other.

The four of them set off, Eugene flanking Zia, who was next to Harry, and Draco next to him. This was a formation they sort of always formed, Eugene wanting to protect his cousin, same as Harry did.

Harry took Zia's hand; and the pair of them apparated to the headquarters of her father's dealings, Eugene and Draco following suit. They stood in the shadows for a while, thinking of a plan. The front door was protected by a large, burly guard who looked as though he could smash open their heads without any effort t all.

"What do I bet you guys I can get inside with that big, scary guard letting me in?" She asked the three men thoughtfully, sizing the man up. Eugene immediately was in for the bet, Zia could do it, but the other two seemed to think she couldn't.

"You're on." Harry said, "I say you can't do it."  
>"Unbelievably, I agree with Potter. No way, Zia, now how." Draco said, frowning heavily. She stepped up to Harry with a smirk, slid her hand inside his coat and pulled out another gun. She made sure it was loaded before putting it in her jeans, but they couldn't see it at all.<p>

"How much?" Eugene asked, "I say you can do it, Zia, how much are we betting, though?"

"Ten galleons." She said instantly.

"Zia, you don't have ten galleons." Harry pointed out; knowing full well they'd left her home without any money. What was more, she knew the wizarding currency, it impressed him.

"I'll have twenty soon." She shrugged, leaping from the shade and nearing the guard. He looked up at her when she reached him, a dazzling smile in place.

From afar Eugene could see that she was using her womanly charm, using her assets. She swayed her hips ever-so-slightly, drawing big and burly's attention to it. He wasn't paying attention to anything she said, just nodding to whatever she said.

Then Harry and Draco lost a bet, and Eugene smirked as the guard opened the door for her, and she gave him a grateful smile and hurried inside, his eyes lingering on the security door.

"She did it." Harry couldn't believe it. "She actually did it – but how?"

"She is very attractive in black," Draco noted, "And her hips had a sort of hypnotic sway about them, not to mention that scandalously tight shirt!"

Eugene and Harry both clobbed him over the head. He grinned guiltily.

"Hey, I'm a man, not a rock, even if we are against a mountain." He shrugged, coming out from under the shade himself. Harry and Eugene followed him. The three men just flashed their corporation ID's, not waiting for Big-and-burly to open the door, it opened automatically. Zia held out her hand, clearly expecting her money. Draco dropped the golden coins into her hand, while Harry promised he'd give her the gold when they got home.

"Right, let's split up. I'm taking Harry." Zia whispered, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him one way. Eugene and Draco shrugged, taking the other way, guns at the ready.

"So, Zia, what exactly is your plan?" Harry asked as he covered Zia's back, both of them had their guns loaded and ready to shoot at a second's notice.

"To destroy as much as I possibly can, but not kill David, his moment will come." She said, "and I want to make my coming back to life a shock."

Harry wanted to pat her on the shoulder. She really was a sadistic creature at times, and when she threatened him with a gun, her hot breath playing across his lips as her body pressed against his in a threat… it was exhilarating. It made his pants uncomfortable, though, and he forced himself to calm down.

They walked in silence, their eyes and senses alert to everything and anything. She stopped at a certain room, it had a shiny plate on it, and the word "Admin" printed in gold on it.

"I bet it would all be very confusing if these files were to be destroyed, randomly, by a magical fire, won't you say?" She asked teasingly, opening the door softly.

She wondered where the lock was, and the guards, but her question was answered when she was inside. It was one massive safe, it held all the documents of his clients, the people he bribed, the money he'd stolen, the people he'd had exterminated, his employees…

Two guards were playing a game of cards when she opened the door. The door needed to be oiled, because it squeaked as she entered. The two guards looked up, but she already had her weapon trained on them.

"Shut up or I'll shoot." She warned, making Harry wait outside. The guards stopped in their actions of reaching for their own weapons. "Batons?" She guessed. Upon closer inspection, she saw they had actual weapons. She stepped up to one guards, slid the gun out of its holster, and trained a gun on each guard, keeping the third one hidden.

Harry entered; a pair of sunglasses in place – he was still an employee, after all, he couldn't be seen threatening his supposed co-workers.

He pulled out two of his own firearms, aiming them at his two captives. Zia tossed one of the guns to him, he caught it smoothly and it was hidden underneath his cloak, not once wavering his aim. He took the two guards outside, doing who knows what with them.

Zia slid her wand out, pointed it at the safe, muttered 'Alohamora' and was surprised when it opened. She leered evilly when she saw the millions of papers. It would damage David's rep, wouldn't it? It was absolutely perfect! She was positively giddy at the prospect.

She cast another charm, and the entire safe was on fire, or rather the papers were. She turned towards the surveillance camera and blew it a kiss, before striding to back to the outside, Harry on her tail.

"That it?"

"No, I want to meet my father first, and demand answers," She held strong, her defined jaw set tightly. Harry gave in and followed her again, subtly pointing the way to her father's study.

She didn't knock; she strode past the PA and ripped the door open, nearly ripping it off its hinges. Harry waited outside; this had nothing to do with him, at the same time he admired her strenght. The PA didn't seem phased by the happenings at all.

His office was in a panic, all over people were scurrying and running. David himself was seated at his desk, wondering why he didn't have a computerized system.

"Morning, David." She said, loud enough to be heard over the hustle of his office. His eyes caught hers, and a look of pure shock and terror crossed his face. The running people stopped to stare.

"Zia? You're alive?" David sounded scared, terrified, and she enjoyed it. She nodded, bored, slapping the butt of the gun to the palm of her hand.

"Quite obviously, daddy," She rolled her eyes, the employees' eyes widened. Of course they didn't know their boss had had an illegitimate child, it would ruin his image, as both a bank manager and as the boss of the English mafia.

"I'm so happy you're alive!" Were his next words. Zia ignored it, training the gun on him. Instantly a dozen barrels were staring back at her (she thought that was a horrible example of personification), ready to fire, but she didn't flinch, her eyes fixed on him.

"He won't kill me," She said confidently, "nor will he let me be killed." She glared the firearms pointed at her down.

"Lower your weapons, boys," Stine ordered his men, who slowly lowered their hands. He glanced back at his daughter coolly, "You too, Mazia."

She readied her finger at the trigger. "We both know I'll do it."

"No, you won't," He said, though she noticed his eyes flitting back and forth between her face and the gun, "you need me."

She snorted, awfully unlady-like, Vicky would've skinned her for it.

"Why would I need you?" She sneered, an ugly scowl on her face.

"Money, safety, medical scheme, regularity..."

She lowered the gun, but pulled her wand out.

"Well, look what I have," She twirled the thin stick between her delicate fingers, "this gives me safety, seeing as my tutor taught me everything I need to know. What's to stop me from killing you where you stand?" He paled, she grimaced, "Money? I have enough money."

"Liar." He shot back at her.

"No, David, you're the liar." She walked up to him, sticking her wand to his chest. "Tell me who my mother is." Her voice held not only acid, but an element of animal. Fear seized David, and not just at the mention of Zia's mother.

"Your mother is dead." He said automatically. She laughed cynically.

"I know she's alive, David, and I know she's a witch. You, sir, are a lying fiend." She tapped his chest with her wand. "Tell me who she is and I'll let you live."

"Empty threat." He bluffed. She rose an eyebrow, the gun back in her hand. Jumping a foot away, her wand between her teeth. She fired the gun to his arm. The bullet ripped through his flesh, she was standing too close.

"Trelawney." Stine coughed out, shock written on his face, he couldn't believe the girl he'd kept from the world was so skilled. So violent... He could use her in his corps.

Zia nodded happily, her wand back in her hand. She turned heel, ignoring the barrels of a dozen guns pointed at her.

"Oh, and by the way, I may or may have not set fire to your documents in the Admin room."

Stine paled again. She giggled and was gone, just like that. Harry had seized her hand and had apparated from his position outside.

. . .

On the other side, Eugene and Draco had been causing chaos as far as they went. First Eugene shot at a few security cameras, causing alarms to go off on that side of the building. Harry and Zia couldn't hear it, but that was why there had been chaos in David's office, they'd lost the visual security.

Draco pulled out his wand, shooting silly hexes to the unsuspecting muggles. They were randomly dancing around, their teeth or ears larger than earlier, or they started singing in high-pitched voices.

Eugene and Draco slapped a high five, before Draco slashed his wand, causing a hard wind to blow through the hallway, and papers were everywhere!

"Legend, Draco, truly." Eugene laughed. He didn't care of he lost his job, he was secure in that area wherever he went.

They spun around the corner and saw Harry and Zia apparate. Draco grabbed onto Eugene, who took a deep breath and was pulled through the uncomfortable tube that is apparating.

Later, when they'd shared tales, the four sat laughing, unable to believe what they'd done, having lunch in a small restaurant.

"But you shot him!" Eugene was saying, trying to rebuke his cousin, but the idea gave him chuckles, no one had ever done it.

"So? He's a lying rat." Zia shrugged.

"He's your father." He pointed out.

"He's still dirty vermin." Zia held on stubbornly. Harry gave Eugene a 'let it go'-look, and the latter held his hands in the air in surrender. Harry Potter was a dangerous man to piss off.

"What's next?" Draco asked, serious.

"We'll be called in," Harry said, "He'll ask us about it."

"And all we know is that we left her at the morgue?" Draco guessed.

"With me," Eugene piped up, "so he'll think I'm in it too."

"And I drugged myself to get out of his prision." Zia finished, setting her glass of coke down, "Seems like something I'd do."

A few men entered the bistro they were in, all dressed in the same way. Some had tattoos on their arms, they showed their arms by wearing what Zia called 'help-me-look-strong'-shirts, because it showed off some of their admittedly muscled arms.

"It does, but where would you get said drugs? Weren't you locked up for the majority of your life?" Harry asked, enjoying the current game.

"Weren't you listening? I was her accomplice! You two were mere pawns in our plan." Eugene drawled, putting his head on his joined hands.

He appeared to be tired - he'd wrestled everyone that tried to stop them to the ground, and it would tire anyone out. But Eugene wasn't just anyone, he was unbelievably strong and he could endure even the harshest of situations. He had learned when he was younger to fend for himself.

In reality he was watching the new arrivals, who seemed somewhat familiar to him. He knew he'd seen them before, but he couldn't recall where.

"Now I've been reduced to a pawn... I thought I was a knight!" Harry exclaimed, exagerating. Draco chortled.

"Please, Potter, you gave that status up a long time ago." He retorted, "As for me, I thought myself to be the antagonist's sidekick."

"And now you're a pawn." Zia cooed, pouting her lips as if she was pitying him.

The next moment Eugene jumped over the table, pushing both Zia and Harry down as a bullet whizzed past them. Harry's heart hammered in his ears.

Eugene stood up, his eyes dark. Zia knew what that meant: stay out of his way or he'll rip your throat out. She got that message loud and clear, and backed away until she was hidden under the table. From there she cooked up a new plan.

Everyone, safe for Zia, were on their feet, threatening stances galore.

Harry frowned at her, before whipping out two of his own weapons, Draco mirroring him. Harry was furious, and terrified. Furious that someone had already and found them and had tried to kill her, terrified because the man almost succeeded.

At that moment, Harry admitted it to himself that he'd fallen for her. It might have been a short while, but he'd fallen for the seventeen-year-old girl hiding under the table. And why was she hiding? She wasn't one to run away.

"We know she's here." One of them said, "We heard that a ruckus went down at Stine's place. And she got out."

"Well, look who's a bright spark," Eugene growled, "but she's mine, Dalt, and mine alone."

"We have a job to do." Dalt replied easily, aiming his firearm underneath the table. "You won't always be able to protect her."

But Harry would, he'd protect her with his life if he had to.

But Zia wasn't there.

Eugene wanted to scream in frustration, but a grin spread across his face. This was the moment Zia'd been waiting for, all of her training had led her to this. He folded his arms over his chest.

"Who says she needs me to protect her?" He wagered, wondering where she was hiding.

"Hello, boys," She whispered to Dalt, her hand pulling his hair backwards, a gun shoved against his spine, "He's quite right, you know, I can look after myself." She loaded the gun, smiling when she heard him gulp, "Tell your boss my father doesn't give a flying f-"

"Zia, language." Eugene chided her. She glared at him before finishing her sentence.

"- a flying tack about me."

"Much better." Eugene approved with a nod. He saw one of the others neared Zia, a knife drawn. He tightened his grip on his gun, but he expected Zia to see it coming. He'd been the one to teach her everything she knew.

Harry saw it too, and he slowly raised his arm. He caught Eugene's eye, who was slightly shaking his head. Harry wanted to shoot Eugene at that moment, that man was sneaking up on her!

But he was sated when he saw Zia's eyes briefly flit to the side; she'd seen him.

When the man was right behind Zia, she spun around, holding a gun to his forehead, while she still had one pointed at Dalt.

"Think again." She laughed, "I'm not stupid, kids, I was trained by Eugene, and with the back-up of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, I think we can take you."

A pin could've dropped, and you'd be able to hear it. Before they could say the word "knife", everyone were gone, safe for the four that had originally been there and the two currently at gunpoint.

"Very good, Zia,' Eugene was glowing with pride, "What's next?"

She smiled again, before whispering in Dalt's ear: "Tell your boss I'm not a meek little girl like you thought I was. Tell him, I'll kill him." She spun him around to the door, kicking his back, helping him out. "As for you," She said to the one who still had his knife poised, "why shouldn't I just pull the trigger?"

He whimpered.

"Dalt's your brother, isn't he? Well, walk out, and quickly."

He turned and sped away. She shot him in the leg just before he exited the coffee shop.

"Were we alone when we entered?" She asked, looking around.

. . .

Back at The Burrow, everyone was awake and in a panic, searching for the four guests. Mrs Weasley nearly attacked Harry in a hug.

"We thought you'd gone again!" She admitted tearfully. Harry laughed.

"Not yet, ma'am, we had some business to attend to." He explained, meeting Zia's eyes. She looked away, blushing, and Harry grinned. "Speaking of, Zia and I plan on going out tonight, so don't wait for us to start dinner."

"Blimey, Harry, we thought you'd at least warn us before you took off again." Ron clapped him on his back.

"Nah, I won't, you should know that I won't. The four of us would probably just disappear one day, and you'll never see us again." Harry said earnestly. Ron laughed, not realising the joke, but Hermione eyed him apprehensively.

Harry reached for Zia's hand, leading her to the swings. His heart was in his throat. He'd been terrified for her life earlier despite knowing she could handle herself.

She sat down on the piece of wood, he crouched in front of her.

"You okay?"

She nodded, confused. "Why?"

"You were almost killed back there."

"So? It's not something that hasn't happened before." She shrugged, then her eyes widened, "Mr Potter... Are you saying you were scared for me?" She was baiting him. He didn't answer, he stared ahead of him, which just so happened to be her waist. "You do! Don't tell me you've fallen in love with me!"

All of a sudden her expression turned into one of terror. "Please tell me I'm right."

"What?" He looked at her shaply, unsure what this meant. Maybe she shared the interest, maybe she liked him... Harry wondered where his emotional armour had gone to.

"I hate to be wrong. Please tell me I'm nor wrong." She nearly begged, and Harry's heart sank a little. Maybe he was wrong.

"You're not wrong." He said, unwilling to believe he'd truly fallen for someone, and someone so utterly mad at that. He put his heart on his sleeve again, like a true Gryffindor.

"Why'd the men flee when I mentioned your names?" She asked softly. Harry started to panic, but a lie could save him. And why didn't she elaborate on the previous subject? He needed to know if she felt something, anything, for him.

"We're known in the underground, Zia, and not because we're snappy dressers." He said honestly. "We're ruthless."

"Guards?" She asked.

He didn't bother to answer.

. . .

**A/N: Please review!**


	13. Chapter 12: Confrontation

**A/N: And here it is, the latest GA chapter. This one was mostly written by me, with Batsy throwing in a few of Draco's comments.**

**You might have noticed that I've upped the rating from T to M. This is because there might be a bit of the content that's a tad risky, and, of course, there might be something happening soon...**

**Thanks to Ahsilaa, TheFremioneGirl, Muentiger, Batmarcus, Skylark#1, Nitrogirl and jenn008 for reviewing.**

**Chapter 1****2: Confrontation**

Harry woke up with a start, unsure as to what had awoken him. He found, quite unsurprisingly, that the daughter of the English Mafia Boss was in his arms. It had become an everyday occurrence. And the above statement possibly terrified him.

"Sweet," A voice sneered. Harry jumped at Draco's appearance. The young Malfoy heir was seated in a conjured chair, his pose relaxed.

"Malfoy," Harry growled, "What are you doing here? Staring at a sleeping couple – that's just weird and creepy, even for you."

"I was considering wedging myself between the two of you, it seemed awfully comfy there," Draco said nonchalantly, examining his nails, Harry's pillow crashed into his face, causing Draco to burst out in laughter, "Touchy, aren't we? Rest easy, Potter, you're not my type. Zia might be, but I won't try to steal her from you."

Harry leered, a warm feeling spreading through his stomach at his ally's unexpected admittal, "So Eugene's your type?"

"I never said that," Draco drawled.

"But it's obvious on your face, Malfoy," Harry smirked. Draco's cold mask slipped into place.

"He has a fine body, Potter, as does his cousin, and I myself have a magnificent body – I recognise art in all its forms."

"Which is just a way for you to cover up that you like Eugene," Harry teased him.

Draco looked down. He felt guilty – it was odd for him, but he felt guilty. He didn't argue with Harry. There was no way he was telling Harry he had feelings for the girl currently residing in his arms, when she clearly had feelings for Scarhead too. Draco was many things, but he would never get between them.

"Wait – you don't have real feelings for him, do you?" Harry was concerned. Draco closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"Eugene's on his way up, Potter, I advise you get dressed." Draco said, getting up, leaving the room, and leaving his ally and partner thoroughly confused.

Harry mentally shrugged, shaking the object of his affections awake gently and whispering her name.

She punched him in the face. He heard the crack of his nose breaking and felt the blood gushing onto the sheets.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry, Harry!" She shrieked, jumping out of bed and rushing to the adjoining bathroom. Harry held his nose in the air and pinched the bridge of his nose, glad that he hadn't been wearing his glasses.

Zia nearly fell over her own feet when she returned with a large wad of toilet paper, pressing it gently to his nose.

"I'm so sorry!" She said again, nearly climbing over him to try and gouge the bloodflow.

He had no idea how it happened, but she was on his lap and that made his pyjama bottoms incredibly uncomfortable suddenly, even if there was a bloody nose at current. She didn't notice it, thankfully, being too concerned about his nose.

He did his best to imagine Dumbledore in a leather outfit covering only the essentials. It did the trick.

His nose finally stopped bleeding, thankfully, and he yearned for Tonks' old _Episkey_. He felt that his nose was swollen and it felt as though he had to really suck in the breath through his nose to get any oxygen into his lungs at all. Before he knew what was going on, she'd tapped his nose with her wand and his nose clicked into place with a painful _crack_.

Now he remembered why he hated that spell.

He looked up at her. Her hair was wild, her eyes lined with worry. She reached out a tentative hand and felt at his right eye, where a sharp pain alerted him that his eye was blue or would be blue in the near future.

"Oh, gosh, Harry, I gave you a shiner too," She bit her bottom lip, the pink flesh disappearing behind her teeth…

Harry lost all self-control he had left, which truly wasn't much after she'd boarded his lap.

He surged up and pressed his lips to hers, hunger taking over. She didn't respond at first, but then her hand clutched his shoulders, her nails digging in as she kissed him back feverishly.

Her hair fell over their faces; he smelt the scent of candy and the smell that fills the air after it rained and trailed his tongue down her neck, tasting her salty skin and the beads of sweat on her skin, before she recaptured his mouth in their kiss, deepening it slightly by adding pressure. Her chest was pressed to his; he pulled her closer, his hands exploring the curve of her waist and the smoothness of her back.

Harry flipped their positions, breaking the kiss briefly and smiling down at her, before she reclaimed his mouth. He put his hands beside her head. Their tongues danced around one another, a fiery tango going on.

His one hand was on her stomach, slowly travelling to her thighs, where she jerked roughly.

"What's going on… here…" Eugene barged in, attempting to sound strict but he ended up being entirely shocked. Harry dragged his mouth away from Zia's, glancing down at her swollen lips, grinning down at the blushing girl and sending a glare Eugene's way.

"Do you mind?" He demanded, his hand sliding upwards again, coming to a rest on her belly.

"That's my sister!" Eugene yelled, enraged, stumbling forward and picking Harry up from Zia's body with one smooth move, casting him to the other side of the bed.

"Well, not by blood," Draco mused from the doorway. Eugene swung around and punched him in the shoulder, where Zia could hear the crack, and turned around to further maim or harm Harry.

Zia was already up. She landed a kick in Eugene's stomach, deciding to end the madness here. She was suddenly glad she hadn't chosen to sleep in one of the short dresses she had but rather in a sweatshirt and shorts.

"Now, I'm your sister?" She asked, out of breath, not expecting the look of utter guilt that flashed across who she thought was her cousin's face. She lost all fire to fight, her hands slumping to her side.

Eugene cringed.

"WHAT?" She shrieked, causing both assassins to cover their ears. Her brief silence was over.

Draco sniggered, mouthing _Nice One _to Harry with a thumbs-up. He didn't like it, but he was happy for Harry's sake.

"I wasn't supposed to say anything…" Eugene whispered, "but…"

"I'm your sister?" Zia demanded; her voice high. She knew she had half-brothers and sisters, her father's public family made sure of that, but she had no idea where he would fit in! Who was his father? Who was his mother? How were they related, exactly?

She would've brushed the yelled statement earlier of her being his sister off, were it not for the expression he'd just given her. An expression saying: "I screwed up, crap, my head will roll and I will never be forgiven".

"Eugene! Answer me!" She yelled harshly. He looked ashamed, still on the floor where her kick had landed him.

"You were never supposed to know! Oh, she is so going to kill me!" He seemed genially terrified of this 'she', which petrified Harry. If Eugene was afraid of another woman in Zia's presence… she truly had to be terrifying. Eugene hauled himself off the floor.

"Who's going to kill you?" Zia asked next. Eugene sat up, shivered and looked at Zia.

"Our mother."

With that Zia fainted.

. . .

"So, tell us the whole story," Harry said evenly, they were outside, Zia was confused (more than she was before) and the four were walking slowly on the grounds of the Burrow. No one but they were up yet, which was odd, considering Molly Weasley normally rose at around 5am at the latest, and the ruckus the four had created that morning was enough to wake Sleeping Beauty from her magical slumber.

Draco's arm had broken earlier by Eugene's hit, and neither Draco, Harry nor Zia knew the spell to fix it, and Mrs Weasley wasn't awake yet. Thus his arm was now hanging in a makeshift sling.

"Look, you were locked up in that house when you were five; I was eight, and our mother made me swear to protect you. My father was gone – I wasn't exactly a legitimate child, you see. She lost her memory, and mind, shortly after that. But I was the squib son of a witch; no one would take me in. So I stuck to your side. I made my way up the ranks, until I was the chief of staff, and your personal bodyguard, and I could find a way to look after you and help you escape. Then these two came along and helped my plan along."

"And you never told me I was your sister because…?" Zia's hands were in the air, waving around at her questions.

"Mum didn't want you to know," He said earnestly, "Oh, she's gonna kill me!" His hands flew to his hair.

"But I have a brother!" Zia exclaimed; then she rounded on him, "Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep because I felt alone?"

"451." He answered, "and who always brought you ice-cream and popcorn?"

She glared at him, before tackling him down in a hug.

"You lied to me for so long!" She punched him in the gut, "But you were my surrogate brother anyway, you miserable son of a…"

"Watch who you curse, woman, she's your mother too!" Eugene said defensively, not fighting back, but rather defending his most important bodyparts.

Zia stopped her attack and burst out in laughter.

Harry liked her laughter; he didn't hear it enough to appreciate it. Eugene then turned to Harry, seeing as Zia's attack was now over.

"And you were planning on taking her innocence!" Eugene yelled, launching his massive body at Harry, only to be restrained by Draco's wand.

"Oh, do calm down, Eugene, she wasn't exactly telling him to stop, was she?"

"He's got a point." Zia said, pointing at Draco. He nodded to her, and Eugene landed on his bum.

"So, you two?" Eugene pointed at his sister and Harry.

Harry looked at Zia for an answer. They hadn't discussed it, what had happened between them. He knew he was in love with her, but that didn't necessarily she returned his feelings. Logic told him that of course she felt the same way, especially after the way she'd kissed him.

"Yeah – problem, brother?" Zia asked sweetly. Harry snorted, already playing the role of the sweet, innocent little sister. Whilst all four of them knew Zia was far from both sweet and innocent.

"Harry – you hurt her, I will saw off…"

"My testicles, one by one, until all three are off and then you'll step on them, shoot them and do a very sexy tango on them with my friend Draco." Harry said, waving his hand around with a dignified air.

"Don't shit me, Potter, you do not have three balls!" Draco exclaimed.

"I'm amazed how fast you guys can wander off topic," Zia said, awed, "and I'll let you know on that ball thing," She added.

"Seriously?" Harry called, "Fine, I have two – I just wanted Eugene to be happy at the increased pain he could cause me."

"To be fair, I was excited for a minute there." Eugene mused, laughing when both Harry and Zia attacked him with punches.

"Okay, I need new friends, you guys are weird." Draco said firmly, walking away.

. . .

Draco, Harry, Zia and Eugene were waiting in the headmistress' office. When McGonagall heard it was Harry, she ushered him, and his two friends, to her office, telling them to wait there until she could see them. Harry just hoped that was soon.

"Messrs Potter and Malfoy," McGonagall entered her office, sitting behind her desk, "what brings you to Hogwarts?"

She saw the other two and hastily introduced herself, "Forgive me, I'm Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts, and who might you be?"

"I'm Zia Stine-Trelawney, ma'am," Zia said, offering her hand to the older woman, "I understand my mother works here?" Zia's decided to add the Trelawney, because she was much prouder of being the child of a woman she never met than of being the daughter of one David Stine.

"Sorry, ma'am, my sister doesn't have manners," Eugene scolded playfully, reaching out his own hand, "I'm Eugene."

The headmistress shook his hand, before leaning a bit back. "Sybil Trelawney is your maternal party? I never knew she had any children."

"Neither did - does she," Zia said, passing the older woman a bright file, "this is the record my father kept about my mother. He had her memory wiped shortly after I was born, effectively removing all memory she had of me or him," she jabbed her thumb in Eugene's direction, "so she might have slightly lost her remaining sanity."

McGonagall looked through the file, her eyes scanning the pages. "Who is your father, if I may ask?"

Zia considered lying for a minute, but decided against it, "David Stine."

McGonagall nodded. Even in the wizarding world, they knew of the Mafia boss. The wizarding world did have its fair share of drug users and suppliers, and it was a school, after all. McGonagall knew there were several students using it, but they were all getting help. It had been made compulsory about ten years prior to get all students tested for unknown substances. Many tried to evade the tests, but none succeeded.

She'd seen Kingsley a number of times about it. He kept saying he had one of his best teams on the job, but they could never find his hideout or his headquarters.

But what worried Kingsley, and by extension McGonagall, most, was that Stine had recently appointed two deadly assassins, both from the wizarding world, both hidden behind large cloaks and various masks and sunglasses, no one able to identify them.

"Truly? Then you would know where he is?" McGonagall asked eagerly. Zia grinned guiltily.

"No, sadly, I don't. He had me locked up in a mansion for the majority of my life with a nanny, a tutor and a bodyguard, also known as my oaf of a brother, who I found out was my brother this morning. I've had a busy day, ma'am."

McGonagall stared for a moment.

Harry sighed, they didn't have time for this.

"With all due respect, professor, we can't stay long, Stine wants Zia badly, mostly because on her last visit she destroyed the majority of his records, but he's certain she'll search for her mother and he'll be looking for her too. And we know he has contacts in the wizarding world. She's in danger, " Harry explained, not even thinking about the fact that McGonagall would be suspicious of his return, not to mention his return with one individual who used to be his nemesis.

"Mr Potter – would you mind explaining where you'd disappeared to?" She turned her stern gaze to him. But years of being one of the top assassins the underground had to offer had hardened him, and Minerva McGonagall no longer terrified him.

"I went on a journey, ma'am, to… find myself." Harry said lazily.

"And when did your animosity to Mr Malfoy fade?"

"It never did," Harry replied honestly, "we met at an abandoned building, had it out, then shared a passionate kiss and here we are."

Draco spluttered, "What? Potter – I don't recall that ever happening!"

Harry winked at Draco, causing McGonagall to burst out in laughter, "Oh, you two are still at it, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry grinned, "but back to Professor Trelawney…"

"Of course. Before you go see her, I want to know if you'd help the Ministry of Magic in the capture of your father." She directed this at Zia, who blanched.

"Ma'am, he has more than half the Ministry in his pocket," Zia replied carefully, "that's why they can't find him. He has both the muggle police and the aurory bought. To defeat him, you need an outsider. That's me," Zia smiled creepily.

"I advise you to leave it to her, ma'am, I'm not scared easily, and she terrifies me," Eugene shivered, scooting away from her.

"My mother?" She got up, everyone following her example. McGonagall told Harry to lead them to the Divination tower.

She also made an appointment with Kingsley the next day.

. . .

Harry was the first to climb the ladder to the classroom, happy and relieved to find that the heavy fumes were cleared up.

"Mr Potter," Trelawney stepped forward, "somehow I knew I'd see you again."

Harry greeted her, turning to help Zia up, shortly followed by Eugene and lastly Draco, who Eugene lifted rather than the blonde climbing.

Zia and Eugene clasped hands. Zia looked up at him, as if asking "Is this her?". Eugene nodded, smiling lightly.

"Hi, mum," He said awkwardly, "it's been a while,"

"I'm sorry, dear, I don't know you," She said kindly, before bestowing a hug on a bewildered Draco, "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr Malfoy,"

Harry saw Eugene's face fall for a second, but he kept himself together for Zia's case.

"Thank you, ma'am, but these two are your children, you just don't recognise them," He extracted himself from the hug.

She turned on the pair, looking for signs of a lie. Her inner eye hadn't warned her of this, but they looked like they could possibly be her children. The girl had her complexion, whereas the boy would have her hair did he allow it to grow out.

But she had absolutely no memory of them whatsoever.

"I know you don't remember us," Eugene said softly, "but we had to come see you." He looked down.

"Eugene…" Draco said softly, silencing him, he turned to the older woman, "If you'd allow me, professor, I would like to try and demolish the barrier that has been placed on your mind."

She considered the possibility – of course it was both possible and probable that she'd been confounded and imperiursed and that her memories had been tampered with…

She looked at Zia, who was looking at her with expectation. The girl hadn't said anything since arriving, and she thought she knew why: because if she did, she'd burst into tears, because she was hoping…

She looked like such a vulnerable girl that Trelawney found herself nodding.

She moved over to an armchair and sank down in it, showing Draco that she was ready.

Draco sat down opposite her.

"Ready?"

She nodded, "You're certain you know what you're doing?"

"Snape taught me," He shrugged. That seemed to relax her. Draco flourished his wand, and both parties went still.

"Do you think he'll be successful?" Zia asked, her voice small. Harry took her free hand, entwining their fingers.

"Of course, he's Draco Malfoy; he wouldn't be able to live it down if he failed. And he wouldn't fail you, Zia." He said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Ugh, you guys have been together for an hour and you're already displaying so much familiarity," Eugene teased, ruffling her hair.

"And you've been acting like a big brother all these years, I can't pin something on you." She whined, pouting.

"That doesn't work on me, Zia, and you full well know it," Eugene said.

"Done," Draco said suddenly, active again. They all looked over to Trelawney, who was still lying backwards, "Just give her a few minutes to gather her strength, and then you guys talk, okay?"

Draco got up and walked to the ladder.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"To see Snape," he shrugged, "his painting, his grave or his ghost, whichever I see first."

With that he disappeared, Eugene somewhat helping him, his arm was still in a sling, just in time for Trelawney to wake up. Zia and Eugene peered at her nervously, wondering if she'd remember them now.

Trelawney swept up, drawing the two into her arms, "Mazia, Eugene! Oh, you two have grown!" She pulled back to look at them, tears leaking from her eyes. She pulled off the glasses that made her seem akin to a bug, threw them on the floor and started to remove the mass of shawls draped around her, "Sorry, children, when I was attacked by that man, I quite became a tad mad…" She looked at them again, "Oh, my children, I've missed you so!"

"You remember me?" Zia squeaked. It was an odd sound, for Mazia Stine just simply did not sqeak. Except now.

"Of course! I never wanted them to take you!" She pulled her daughter into her arms again, followed by Eugene, crushing the teenaged girl between them.

"Oh, I want to know everything! And why is Harry Potter here? With Draco Malfoy? Oh, I am going to kill David Stine!" Trelawney ranted, making Zia slap her mother clumsily, she couldn't see very well so she just lifted her hand and hoped for the best.

"Calm down, woman, I just found out about my brother this morning, please don't tell me my mother is a lunatic!" Zia screamed in a muffled voice, "and can you please stop hugging me? I'm suffocating, and I don't really like hugs!"

She wrestled out of the hug and took in a defensive stance, "The next person that hugs me will have Harry to deal with!"

"Oh, great, you're treating me as a threat now?" Harry wanted to know, unsure if he should feel elated or troubled. Zia rolled her eyes and stuck her hand into her jacket, pulling out a handgun, "This is Harry junior, I meant him."

Trelawney's eyes widened at the sight of the gun, "Zia, don't tell me..."

"Mother," Zia said calmly, "I am one of the best shots out there, Eugene taught me everything he knows,"

Eugene swore, "Zia, by the glory of everything good, will you shut up?"

Trelawney glared at her son. It was a terrifying look and Harry took a step away from her. He'd never seen Trelawney glare and it was obvious where Zia got her ability from.

"You taught your sister how to handle a gun?" She said softly, her voice a dangerous tone.

Eugene backed away, spotting Harry and pointing towards him, "He almost broke her innocence!"

Trelawney turned towards Harry, who took to hiding behind his girlfriend. Zia grinned guiltily, shielding him.

"She obviously loves him!" Trelawney burst out, "But, Mr Potter, if you dare to hurt her, I will castrate you and feed your bits to the blast-ended skrewts!"

Harry swallowed, "Yes, ma'am."

Zia laughed, "He's a good guy, mum, I'm not stupid, you know."

Trelawney looked at her daughter with a rising pride, "Well, let me just finish up a few things, and I'll join you, all right? I wish to know everything..."

"Well, I had my first period at age..." Zia started, but Harry put a hand over her mouth.

"I'm certain not that," He said, sliding his hand down to hers, "Professor, we'll wait for you outside the castle."

Trelawney nodded and the small party of people disbanded.

. . .

Trelawney was stunned. She'd been given the entire story from her two children's points of view; Eugene just left out that the two wizards were actually killers. That wouldn't do Harry's rep good with either women.

Thing was: he knew that Harry was in love with his sister. They were moving fast, he knew that too... But he didn't begrudge Zia her happiness.

After her nanny's murder, she needed a friend, she needed closure and she needed Harry. They were good for one another.

Draco'd noted the previous evening that Harry was in a better mood recently, and his concentration had been upped as well as his performance.

That meant Zia was good for him. She didn't take away his attention, but rather advanced it.

But Trelawney was shocked; she was going to murder David Stine in the most brutal way she could think of.

She looked at the daughter she'd never known; the girl seemed to be staring into space.

"Listen," Trelawney tried, reaching out for Zia's hand; Zia didn't object and allowed her hand to be held, "I'll find him. I'll make him pay for everything he's done to you."

"It's fine," Zia lied perfectly, withdrawing her hand, "Come on, Harry,"

Harry, who'd been sitting awkwardly on a couch in the Burrow'a living room (the ginger family had graciously allowed them the private use of it), jumped up and took her hand.

"Where to?"

"I'd just like to talk," She said earnestly. Harry nodded.

They ended up in the middle of the field, the grass was yellowed and tall, perfect to hide.

"What is it?" Harry asked, nervous. He didn't what to think - he hoped she wasn't going to tell him the part where she's supposedly his girlfriend was just that, a farce.

She bit her lip, the rosy flesh disappearing again beneath her teeth.

Harry pulled her closer to him, his eyes never leaving her lips. Zia stared up at him, seemingly worried.

"Look... I... I've never done this before, and I don't know what to do, but... I like you, and..."

Harry silenced her by pressing a kiss to her mouth.

Zia was surprised. This wasn't the frenzied kiss they'd shared this morning. This was... sweet. He didn't push the kiss further, and after a few seconds she closed her eyes and melted into his arms.

Just this. This ordinary feeling, this was what Zia'd wanted.

. . .

David Stine was worried. He was stressing his admittedly large arse off. Because of her.

She wasn't dead.

She wasn't stupid.

She wasn't one to forgive and forget either.

He loved his daughter, he just couldn't afford anyone knowing about her. He also knew she was a damn good shot and a dangerous enemy to have.

She had the ability to manipulate, bribe and blackmail him and he could do nothing about it.

Well, he could kill her.

He didn't like the idea, but it had to be done. He'd get one of his two new assassins to do it.

Only he wasn't sure where their loyalties lay anymore. They weren't at the apartment they shared, they'd entirely vanished. He tried contacting them via a phone, but the call didn't go through.

He hoped one of them would show up soon.

Meanwhile he had his headquarters vacated and left a not-so-friendly note for her to find, because he knew she'd go back; to end his life with either magic or a gun, but she'd draw it out, first just minor threats, then bigger... bigger... And ultimately he'd literally die of fright rather than he gunshot or stabwound.

But he was David Stine, the most dangerous man in the British underground world of drugs, sex and money; he could easily find and exterminate her.

But where would the fun in that be?

. . .

Trelawney wandered down to her living room. It had been years since she'd been in her old apartment, mostly due to forgetting it, but it was remarkably clean.

She'd invited the four of them to stay there, and they accepted, saying they didn't want to impose on the Weasleys any longer.

It was late, past midnight, and she was awake.

She couldn't believe what she'd been doing for the last few years. She was a qualified teacher, true, but not in Divination!

She had a wizarding degree in Alchemy, and with a Potions master's degree, and a basic teaching degree, yet she'd been giving Divination for almost twenty years!

Opening the pantry, she got out a carton of milk and poured herself a glass of milk.

Her flat hadn't been touched in years, as if time had been frozen in the place.

"Hi, mum,"Zia said, yawning widely and stretching out, she was donned in a pair of Harry's boxers and a too large shirt.

"Zia," Trelawney nodded towards her, "You hardly know me, yet you call me mum?"

Zia frowned, "I do, don't I?"

Trelawney nodded.

"Well, I'll stop if it bothers you," Zia said carefully.

"No, it's not that I don't like it, it's just unexpected." Trelawney said quickly.

"Good, because I had no intention of going around and calling you Sybill, mum, that'd be weird,"

"Not really, most people do just that," Trelawney nodded wisely. Zia laughed.

"You know where the quarters are, don't you?" Trelawney asked after a while.

"Yeah," Zia answered, "I destroyed his paperwork. But I memorised it all before doing just that."

"How did you manage that?"

"I have no idea," Zia shrugged, "I don't ask questions I don't want the answers to,"

"Well, what say you show me where it is? I'm eager to have a small chat with the man," Trelawney's tone indicated that it would be more of a 'small murder' than a small chat.

Zia nodded her consent.

. . .

The two women entered the building, there'd been no guard at the entrance.

They strolled through the deserted corridors, expecting a mad gunman to charge at them any moment.

Trelawney had her wand out, Zia had her wand and Harry junior ready. She'd been taught how to use a gun with both hands.

"Eugene'll kill us," Zia whispered.

"Not if I kill him first, I'm still furious with him for blowing the cover," Trelawney hissed back, glancing around the dark hall.

"Why wasn't he allowed to tell me?"

"Because I knew if you knew, you'd move mountains and burn down buildings to find me," Trelawney said, "and that's not me being cocky; it's because you're my daughter, not your father's, you were like me."

"Insane?"

"I am not insane," Trelawney said quickly, "my mother had me tested."

Zia giggled softly. She decided that she liked her mother.

The two women found David's office, but it was deserted, like the rest of the building.

Zia strode forward boldly, not thinking of the harm that she might come to were there a bomb or a booby trap.

There was a slip of white paper on what had been David's desk.

_I've relocated. This is war, Mazia, you have your deadly killers, and I have the best assassins in both our worlds. You cannot win._

Zia's blood ran cold.

. . .

**A/N: I know it's been a while, but I finally did it! Please review!**


	14. Chapter 13: We quit

**A/N: Another chapter. This one was half co-written with Batsy. **

**Warning: this chapter has a lime in it. It's not a lemon, it's a lime.**

**Thanks to Batmarcus, jen008 and movee for reviewing.**

**Chapter 13: We quit**

She knew everything of David Stine's illegal activities and his staff – why didn't she know the new killers he'd hired? It unnerved her, so much so that she asked Draco to coach her in the Dark Arts.

He knew much more than he led on, and another three weeks later Zia had all of the spells down. Except for the killing curse, Draco refused to teach her that one.

It was one of these nights, where Zia was bent over a book and learning the theoretic work, that Harry decided she'd worked and studied hard enough.

"Zia?" Harry was in the doorway of Trelawney's study, they were still living with her. The teacher had quit her job as Divination teacher and was now a lecturer at a local muggle college on Alchemy.

"Hm?" She didn't look up.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked, not budging from the doorway.

Zia paused for a grand total of two seconds before looking back at her book, "That sounds dangerous."

"It's not." He assured her.

"So?" She shot back, her voice tired.

"Well... I wanted to tell you something." He said nervously. He hadn't been this nervous for a long while. But something told him that he had to tell her that he was in love with her. No, that he thought he loved her. He wasn't sure anymore, he didn't have a very firm grasp on his emotions or what they meant. All he knew was that everytime he shot someone, he got a thrill from it.

"And?" She quipped.

"Are you going to look at me?" He asked, slightly annoyed at her. With a dramatic sigh she looked up.

"What?" She asked. Harry wanted to take her on for being so rude.

"Well, come here." He said softly, taking step closer to her. She swivelled around in the office chair.

"Why should I go there if you're coming over here?" She asked, confused.

"Zia, you can either come here or I'll chase you out of that chair." He said, a sneer in place. She smirked and folded her arms across her chest.

"I dare you." She said in a haughty voice.

Harry stared at her for another minute longer before dashing towards her. Zia, bravely, held her ground. Harry surged forward and thrust his hands under her armpits and lifted her out of the chair.

"Harry, I'm not a toddler!" She shrieked.

"Told you I could get you out of the chair!" He laughed. Zia scowled and thrust her hand forward, hitting him squarely in the jaw.

"You hit like a girl." Harry said, grinning widely.

"And that's why your nose is bleeding, eh?" She lifted an eyebrow. His nose wasn't really bleeding, she'd hit his jaw, after all.

"Girls can hurt," He replied. She huffed, not really able to do anything since her legs were lifted in the air. She figured he knew she was lying, "Now out we go."

"Do you plan on carrying me the whole way?" She asked.

"Yeah, 'cause if I put you down you'll get away from me." He said, inclining his head.

"But are you going to carry me like this?" She asked, motioning to him lifting her in the air by her armpits, "Because I feel like a two-year-old with a dirty diaper."

"Okay," He slung her over his shoulder.

"Now I feel like a dead buck." She commented.

"Fine," Harry set her down, and, as he'd predicted, she dashed back to her books, or tried to; he caught her around the waist.

"Harry!" She called out.

"Zia!" He called back.

"What? What is so important?" She demanded, clearly seething. She wanted to finish her studying, she didn't want to be distracted. It was important that she got the DADA spells under the knee, 'cause Ernie couldn't help with those, safe for the years when she was 12 and 13, Ernie's third and fourth years.

She slept in Harry's arms every night, but she didn't realise that was all that they did together. She stood up in the morning, showered and got dressed before invading her mother's study, before changing again and going to bed, only to repeat the routine the next day.

Harry missed her. Eugene missed her. And if they bothered to ask Draco, he wasn't missing her, he was helping her study.

In a way, Harry could understand her thirst for knowledge, she wanted to win, to beat her father, but if she went on like this she would burn out.

"Well, fine, if you're going to yell!" Harry huffed, hurt, letting her go.

"I need to do this, I need to learn all I can to get my revenge!" Zia said in a panicked voice, her eyes wide and wild.

"Says the girl who has not stopped studying for a month." Harry didn't sound impressed.

Zia cocked her head to the side, like a curious puppy, "I'm studying to exact my revenge, duh."

Harry looked down, "Yes, I know, revenge is your obsession." He turned heel and walked away, his heart sinking into his shoes.

"Potter! Defeating Voldemort and thereby getting revenge on your parents' death, for Sirius Black, for everyone that died – that was your obsession. You have no right to judge me." She said icily.

"That was not an obsession! I had no choice at all! If I hadn't, the world would have been in even more danger!" Harry yelled at her.

"A world that didn't appreciate you?" She lifted a sceptical eyebrow, "Face it, at least a small part of you did it for revenge."

"No, it wasn't," Harry argued, "It had to be me or he never would've stopped! I was not just fighting for my lost loved ones; I was fighting for everyones'! And yes, for a world that didn't appreciate it – that didn't matter."

"Then why did you leave and why do you refuse to do magic?"

"I couldn't take it anymore. Everyone always looking at me to save the day – it was just too much."

She put her hands on her hips, "So why can't I avenge Vicky? I'm not doing it just for me, you now, I'm doing it for my mother, for me who was locked up like a mental patient. Do you know what it's like to be boxed in for fifteen years?"

"Yes I do!" Harry cried honestly, "You can't let it become an obsession! Even I took breaks now and then."

"I sleep in your arms, don't I? And were you locked in a house for 15 years?" She didn't sound like she believed him.

"No, but I also didn't have servants waiting on me hand and foot. My whole life I _was_ the servant!"

"Servants? You have no idea what they tried to do to me, do you?" She growled, her eyes a dangerous shade.

"Tried being the keyword. Unlike you, no one ever came to save me, I was on my own for eleven years. I had no one but a family that hated me and beat me on a regular basis and only took me to a doctor when they were worried I was going to die. Don't you dare say I haven't suffered! At least you had someone who cared!" Harry fumed, walking away from her.

Zia's breath caught in her throat; she struggled to breathe. She tried to inhale, again, again... but no air filled her lungs. She saw spots in front of her eyes and tried to reach towards Harry, coming to a stop on the top of the stairs. The white spots clouded her entire vision, she still couldn't breathe.

Zia's last thoughts before she lost consciousness were: What an anti-climactic way to die...

But before she could fall down the stairs, Harry was there. He seized her from the front, she limply hung in his arms.

As was habit by now, Eugene popped out of nowhere and swore crudely.

"What?" Harry asked. Eugene helped him lie her down.

"CPR, quickly." Eugene ordered.

Harry knew what that was. He started doing chest compressions. On the count of five and she wasn't revived yet. He stopped and blew air into her lungs.

Her chest heaved, her lungs taking in a greedy gulp of air.

"There she is." Harry sat back, relieved. True, they'd been arguing only moments earlier, but as he'd stated, he was in love with her. Maybe more.

They both had crappy pasts. His was self-explanatory, hers was nearly that of a mental patient. He vaguely wondered what the servants had tried to do to her, that had never come up before.

Zia's eyes flew open, she found Harry's face first and muttered a small "I'm sorry". Harry's resolve melted.

"It's okay." He said softly.

Eugene stepped in, scooping her up in a hug, "Zia, never again starve yourself or deprive yourself of sleep, okay?" He looked into her eyes, "And, for Merlin's sake, keep your blood pressure low!"

Zia hugged her brother again tightly, affection for him rising in her heart, she really was lucky to have him, Harry was right.

"I promise." She said quietly. Eugene seemed satisfied with that, because he kissed her forehead, ruffled her hair, and gave Harry a look before scampering down the stairs.

She looked at Harry awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"Sorry." She said after a minute. Harry grinned at her and collected her into his arms.

"You're still going outside." He said. This time she didn't struggle.

He set her down on the bright green grass under a tree.

"What did the servants do?" He asked curiously.

"They poisoned my meals." She shrugged.

"Why?"

"I'm Mazia Stine." She shrugged again. Harry nodded his head, it served as a good explanation. "I'm sorry your family were idiots."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Still."

"Thanks." Harry pursed his lips.

"You wanted to tell me something?" She asked lightly.

Harry gathered all of his courage, he could face death by wand or gun and would look indifferently, but this...

"I just... I just wanted to say that... I... I love you." He choked out.

Zia stared.

Harry got nervous.

Zia continued to stare.

Harry's nervousness made his hands shake. Maybe he'd spoken too soon? Oh, how Draco would laugh when he found out how soft Harry had become. Harry wasn't sure how he would react if Zia threw his heart to the dogs. He didn't think he could handle it. Maybe she'd mock him. Maybe she'd laugh.

But he knew she wouldn't. That's not Zia. She would either answer him in the next few minutes or so, or she would continue to stare at him as if he had grown a second head.

Then she smiled.

"What?" Harry asked, not knowing what to do.

"Harry!" She threw her arms around his neck, excitement positively bubbling over.

"What?" He asked again, unable to contain a laugh: he'd never seen her so happy.

She silenced him by pushing a chaste kiss to his lips. Harry was a bit surprised, she hadn't kissed him in a while, but he kissed her back, feeling dizzy.

"I love you." She said, finally returning his words, with his lips firmly pressed to his.

"I know." He said against her lips, wondering how on earth he'd fallen for a teenaged girl.

. . .

Zia loaded the gun she had and sent a shot towards the cook's head. It missed. The man swerved around to look at who'd taken a cheap shot at him. Zia ducked down and held her breath.

"Who's there?" He called. Zia snorted silently.

A crazy person just shot a bullet at you for no reasonable reason whatsoever and you ask "who's there?". This guy was made for horror movies.

She jumped up again and took aim, their eyes meeting.

She was clad in nothing but black, her mask open just for her eyes.

"I've never had an assassin sent after me before - this is new." The cook said.

"I'm not an assassin," Zia spoke, "I'm the girl you've been try to poison for 16 years."

"No, just the last 10, actually." He replied cockily. She tightened her hand around the trigger, the gun was shaking, and both Harry and Zia knew she didn't have the guts to kill someone.

And, as it seemed, the cook knew too.

"You can't do it," He said slowly, "you're too good. With your aim you wouldn't even have missed the first shot."

"I'll say thank you for that comment on my aim," She said, "but I already knew I'm not fit to kill anyone. That's why I brought back-up." She lowered her gun as a shot rang through the room, ending in his arm.

"Never admit weakness, Zia." Harry's voice travelled to her as he appeared out of the shadows. He reminded her of a 'Matrix' character the way he carried himself, plus the heavy cloak...

"He's going to end up dead anyways," She shrugged, "or seriously hurt."

"But you never know when something might go wrong." Harry insisted as the cook lunged for Zia, but Harry lazily shot his leg.

"It's you, nothing'll go wrong." She said full of self-confidence.

He didn't reply, but kept his gun on the cook.

"Tell your boss there are double agents." Zia said, slamming a pot over the cook's head, causing him to lose consciousness.

"I must say I like this idea. Making him think there are double agents." Harry said, even though it was completely true, Zia didn't know that - yet it was her idea. Creating an insecure David Stine.

Only Zia did know about double agents. She already had her suspicions.

The couple escaped quickly. This mission to the cook's house had been something minor that they planned, just for Zia to get out, get a feel of the job and it seemed like a good idea for her and Harry to spend time together.

Harry took ahold of Zia's hand and nodded to her. She clutched her wand and apparated them back to her mother's house (a skill taught by Draco).

No one was home. Harry guessed Eugene and Draco were out together and Trelawney was at her new job. Zia cast a spell as soon as they entered the house, confirming that no one was home.

She carried her firearms and wand up to the room she and Harry was sharing, putting them in a dresser. She looked around, finding Harry in the doorway, a sly grin in place.

She grinned at Harry, running to him and jumping into his arms. He laughed and caught her. Her mask, which was still on at this point, was lifted as she kissed him.

This kiss was a different kiss. Zia was kissing him very differently than she did normally. This wasn't tentative and unsure or lust-filled. This was... he didn't know what to call it. But he liked it. And so did his body.

Their tongues and teeth mashed, her hands around his neck as he supported her bum with his hands, squeezing as she pressed their bodies closer, causing some not exactly unwanted friction.

A moan escaped his lips, he drew her body close to his. He knew she could feel his erection by the way she was moving against him, and he could tell she was turned on by the way her body moved.

He slammed into her bedroom door, hurriedly closing the door, and allowed himself to be absorbed into Zia's kiss.

Her tongue was doing wonders. The way she met his tongue with sureness made him go crazy.

He turned around, still carrying her, and they fell onto the bed, their mouths temporarily leaving one anothers, but Harry quickly remedied that.

He flipped their positions so he was on top, grinning down at Zia. He glanced at her, her cheeks flushed, lips swollen and eyes sparkled.

"You're so beautiful." He said, putting a hand on her cheek. She blushed prettily, and he kissed her sweetly. He peppered her face with kisses, causing her to giggle and move them up on the bed, to get a bit more comfortable.

Harry kissed her again, moving his body over hers, ending up between her legs. She didn't seem to notice as she kissed him with all she had.

His clothed erection met her sweet spot, and she gasped into his mouth. Both were dressed, but that didn't make this any less erotic for Zia.

Harry was equally clueless, but he took the fact that Zia was pulling him closer and still kissing him as a good sign.

Without much conscious thought, Harry moved. His cock twitched in pleasure as Zia's entire body shivered. He smiled into her kiss and moved again, rolling his hips into hers.

A soft moan escaped her lips, but she didn't stop it. He started moving at a regular pace, up and down, up and down... Rolling his clother erection into her, receiving soft rewarding moans and gasps.

Zia's tongue grew lax in their kissing, she paused and she tightened her grip. Harry moved again, adding more pressure. Zia threw her head back as a loud gasp escaped her mouth. She came, for the first time in Zia Stine's life, a boy made her come.

"Did you enjoy that?" Harry whispered into her ear. She giggled nervously, latching her lips onto his again, urging Harry to move because he wasn't finished yet.

And moved he did, though his mouth never leaving hers. Zia met him, thrusting her hips up sharply, and he lost it. A loud groan went through the room as he came.

He rolled to the side and pulled her closer. That was the position in how the couple felt asleep.

An hour later he woke up, bleary-eyed and a bit in a daze. He looked down at Zia, who he saw was awake too.

Then it dawned on him what'd happened. He'd taken advantage of her. Sure, they didn't have sex, but he...

"Zia... Zia, I'm sorry..." He started, but the teenaged girl climbed on top of him, sitting on his stomache.

"Hey, what're you saying sorry for?" She asked, grinning at him.

"This isn't right." He said. He felt awfully guilty. It was ironic, he could kill someone without blinking but doing something midly erotic with Zia made him feel guilty.

She slid off him, sitting on the side of the bed. She huffed, before making to dash out of the room.

"Zia!" He called after her, sitting up and grabbing her hand just in time, "I'm not rejecting you, and I wasn't using you. I just don't want to hurt you..."

"I participated just as much as you did." She sniffled.

"I love you, Zia," He said, pulling her down again, "but I feel like I forced you..."

She just laid her head on his chest.

"Please tell me I don't disgust you." She said in a small voice. He frowned, tipping their bodies again so he was on top of her.

"Zia, you're beautiful," He kissed her softly, "you don't disgust me; if anything you arouse me," He gave her a lingering kiss, "I just don't feel right now and right here..." He trailed off.

Zia smiled and snuggled into him.

"Shut up, Harry."

. . .

"No."

"Same here," Harry agreed with his blonde partner, "No more."

David Stine looked at the two cloaked men in awe. He had no idea what had gotten into them, but here they were, refusing to search out Zia.

"Why the hell not?"

"Number one, we're assassins, not detectives," Draco drawled, "number two, she's you're out of marriage daughter and three, she is seventeen."

"Eighteen in a few days," David tried. Draco rolled his eyes, "Have you two gone soft? Imagine that, two of the best assassins out there - afraid of a little..."

David couldn't finish his sentence before a shot rang through the room. It struck his arm, and Draco sent another shot, making sure it grazed David's ear instead of hitting his forehead. He wanted this to be a threat, not a murder. Yet.

"We just think you failed as a father and she is rightfully entitled to exact her revenge as she pleases. We won't kill her, because you had it coming." Draco said in a bored tone.

"She's turned people in my own organisation against me!" David protested, "And if you don't do this, I will fire you both."

"Whose fault is it that you have loyalty problems with your staff?" Harry fired at him, "We refuse to interfere in family matters. This is your shit, not ours."

"I'll fire you both." David said coldly.

Harry laughed, "Your other hitmen won't do it either."

"And why wouldn't they?"

Harry grinned, "Because even the cook knows she has a brilliant aim and that she's highly dangerous."

"She's not that good." David said. Harry clenched his teeth, if only David knew...

"Something tells me you haven't met your own daughter," Draco sneered in his signature way, "Because I have. I guarded her. She doesn't need to be guarded."

"You know more than you're letting on." David accused the blonde.

"True. I know Eugene trained her. And Eugene was head of security. And he's her brother, thus he's instinctively protective. You'll find some security footage missing." Draco went on, causing Harry to snigger.

"And Eugene rivals even us as shots, almost." Harry added.

"Point is, Stine, we refuse to meddle with your dysfunctional family." Draco quipped, relaxing his shoulders.

"And we don't care if you fire us." Harry shrugged nonchalantly. It was true, they had enough money.

"Just know that you lost the best." Draco warned. Harry knew what had to happen next, they always did it like this.

"The best shots." Harry lifted an eyebrow.

"The best assassins." Draco tapped his belt.

"The best guards." Harry crossed his arms.

"The best in magic." Draco had a feeling to add. This was an exageration, though.

"And above all - the best two individuals that knows all about your dirty deeds." Harry finished with a smirk.

He looked at Draco, "What say you, Dragon?"

"We walk." Draco decided.

The two turned around in twin spins, finished with a dramatic flourish of their coats, and walked away. Harry winked at Draco, who paused again and looked back at a very shocked David Stine.

"And you made two of the worst enemies there is to have," Draco said lightly, smiling an evil smile that Harry never got right, "Good luck."

With that they disappeared, David calling after them.

He knew he was screwed.

. . .


End file.
